


Apprentice

by Izzybella12



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Before TLO, Cliffhangers, Ethan is the host of Kronos, F/M, Kidnapping, Or Maybe More, Percy is the apprentice of Kronos, bit of angst, minor Percabeth, that should be expected by now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-16 04:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 80,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14804111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izzybella12/pseuds/Izzybella12
Summary: It's been weeks since the Labyrinth, and Kronos hasn't made a move. Suddenly, the scout returns with news. Kronos has taken Ethan as host, and they've planted a bomb on the Brooklyn Bridge. A team of five go to disarm this threat, but when one gets separated from the group, they all realize how easy it is to betray the ones you love when you're threatened with the unforgivable.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! If you're new to reading my stories, please be aware of angst and cliffhangers and a combination of the two. If you're not, you should be expecting that! I also have this story going on fanfiction.net, so feel free to check me out on there too! And check out my other stories if you get a chance! :) I'll try to update this about every four days, but we'll see how well that goes... I apologize in advance. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, disclaimer: I will forever own nothing when it comes to this, but I hope you guys enjoy the story anyways! :)

Third Person POV

I have to get there. Tree branches bent low, vines snaking across the ground, untrimmed bushes, they all reached out to grab at his clothes. It was like the nymphs were all against him, all trying to slow him down. But he kept running, running, running.

He had to get there in time.

There it is! A few yards away, a tall hill came into view. A towering pine tree sat at the peak, its tapering top hidden from view in the early morning fog. The rays from the rising sun caught the droplets of dew in the grass, illuminating the forest. He dashed through a checkerboard of shadow and light, eyes locked on his destination.

Something crashed to the ground behind him. He sped up, knowing that if he didn't hurry, that would be him. The splintering of wood would be the splintering of bone and the pine needles that fell to the ground would be drops of his blood.

He couldn't fail them.

Climbing up the hill was probably the hardest part; he was already so exhausted, having run all the way here from the city. But he wasn't the fastest runner in camp for nothing. He would make it back or he would die trying.

Just a few yards away from the peak... So close to the tree that he could see a glittering gold blanket nestled amongst the branches.

Almost there...

Something hit the ground where he had just been standing, sending fragments of wood shooting at his bare calves. Warm blood began to trickle down his legs, but he ignored it. As long as he made it past the tree, he would be safe. Those wounds would heal. He just needed to make it past the tree.

A root jumped up from the ground before him, causing him to stumble. The beast behind him roared with triumph, but he was too close to give up now. He tumbled to the ground, rolling. He felt a warm sensation pass over him, and then nothing.

Had he done it? For a moment, he laid there on his back on the ground, staring up at the sky as it shifted from darkness to day. His ears strained, struggling to hear anything. Was he safe?

There was the sound of metal clashing on metal, then a shout. "Intruder!" The clanging of metal increased in quantity, the increasing volume telling him that people were nearing.

Suddenly, a helmet blocked the cloudless sky from view. "It's Travis!" someone shouted, perhaps the helmet-wearing camper. From somewhere in the distance there was a great shuffling, as if a thousand people were dragging their feet across dunes of sand.

He didn't really care. The helmet-wearing person had told him one important thing: he was safe. Knowing that his life was no longer in danger and that he had successfully retrieved the information, he allowed himself to slip into the depths of unconsciousness that wanted to seize him since he started running two hours ago.

 

"Travis is back?"

"Yes, they found him at the camp border early this morning. They don't know how long he was laying there, but from the wounds, they guessed only a few minutes."

"Is he in the infirmary?"

"Yes."

He nodded, brushing dark hair out of his eyes as he turned away from a map of New York laid out on a ping pong table. "I'm going to visit him. Is he conscious?"

The camper shrugged. "Last I heard, he wasn't. But that doesn't mean his status hasn't changed in the last few minutes that I've been away."

Another nod. "Thanks, Malcolm. I'll see you later." He walked past the blonde camper and out of the room. He followed a hallway, which led him out a door. Quickly, he exited the large blue building known as the Big House and hurried towards a shiny gold cabin.

Perseus Jackson was, in a word, worried. Worried about Travis, worried about the other campers, and worried about this war. It was just after the Battle of the Labyrinth, as the younger campers had taken to calling it, and they hadn't seen any action from the opposing forces. Against his wishes, Percy sent their fastest scout, Travis Stoll, into the city. Travis's job was to gather whatever information he could get without making himself known and without actually entering the lair of Kronos.

Judging by how that mission ended, he guessed that Travis didn't follow orders.

Percy had to take at least partial blame for that. When the leader doesn't follow orders half the time, then why should the soldiers?

He reached the Apollo cabin in only a minute, walking around the back to the attached infirmary. He stood in the doorway, surveying the room in the early morning light filtering in through the large window. As usual, medics wandered around, tending to campers that had already managed to hurt themselves that fine day. He was sure that there had to be some record that the Apollo kids kept. There had to be a tally of what campers came into the infirmary even before breakfast had started, complaining of injuries.

He wanted to know why there were so many people in there for it being barely eight o'clock, but found his green eyes drawn towards a bed in the back, directly under one of the many infirmary windows.

The bed of Travis Stoll was surrounded by quite a gathering of people, considering he hadn't even been back at camp for an hour yet. Two children of Apollo were standing near the bed, checking vitals to ensure that the prankster was physically fine. Leaning against the wall as if he hadn't a care in the world was Travis's brother, Connor. His blue eyes betrayed him, flickering down at the demigod in the bed every once in a while in worry.

Most surprisingly, however, was the person occupying the lone chair beside the bed of the son of Hermes. At first, Percy wasn't quite sure who she was; her head was tilted down so a waterfall of brunette locks obscured her face. But then she lifted her head back up and quickly wiped a hand across her bright brown eyes, and Percy recognized her at Katie Gardener.

Odd... He commented to himself smugly. I thought she couldn't stand Travis. Oh, if only he were awake right now... 

Connor saw the son of Poseidon first. He straightened his posture, giving Percy a small grin. "Hey Perce. What's up?"

"Not much," he replied casually before allowing his tone to become serious. "How's Travis?"

Connor resumed his slump against the wall, his back hitting the wood with an audible thud. "Well, he hasn't woken up yet, but they say he's fine. Probably just exhausted. They think he ran all the way here from the city."

Even Percy, who wasn't much of a runner, knew that that couldn't be good. He flinched involuntarily before expertly schooling his emotions. "Travis will be fine," he said, walking towards Connor and putting a hand on his shoulder. "It would take more than a little exhaustion to bring him down. You should know that."

The son of Hermes nodded. "Yeah... Yeah, you're right."

Relieved that the mood was lightening, Percy allowed himself a grin. "I know I am. Why don't you go get some breakfast? I'll watch Travis and I'll send Will if he wakes up, okay?"

For a moment, Percy feared Connor would want to stay. As much as he knew the Stoll brother wanted to keep an eye on the injured demigod, his worrying would do nothing but intensify in the moments until Travis's awakening. It would be better if he separated himself. But Connor nodded slowly. "Okay. But if anything happens..."

"If anything happens and I don't send Will immediately, you have full permission to throttle me."

With a small, strained laugh, Connor started to walk out of the infirmary. "I wish. Annabeth would kill me if I strangled the leader of our army. Especially before Kronos was defeated." He laughed again, then Connor was gone.

That left Percy and Katie gathered around the bed of the son of Hermes.

He groaned internally. Why couldn't Annabeth be here? He complained. She was always better than him at talking to grieving demigoddesses. And of course other things, like math and science and literature and history and...

None of that would help the situation, so he forced his mind back on topic.

Taking a deep breath, Percy slowly crouched down next to Katie's chair, as if attempting to console a wounded animal. "Katie..."

She started, blinking her eyes quickly. "Oh, hey, Percy. When did you get here?"

He wondered if he should tell her the truth, but decided against it. "I just got here a minute ago. I talked to Connor. He went to go get breakfast. Why don't you go get some food, too?"

She shook her head, brown hair flying about her head in a disorganized tangle. "I'd prefer to keep an eye on Travis." Realizing she gave away too much information, to a guy no less, she hurried to cover up her mistake. "He, uh, he owes me money."

Percy nodded, trying to put on a face of belief. Annabeth always told him he wasn't a good actor, though, so he figured he looked more like someone in intense pain than someone understanding the daughter of Demeter. Speaking of intense pain...

"I'm sure Travis would love to back up that statement when he wakes up," Percy said, pointedly ignoring the way Katie's face paled when he said that. "But I strongly suggest you go get something to eat. Will told me that Travis won't wake up for another hour or two," he lied.

The daughter of Demeter looked up at him, clearly apprehensive. "I don't know... I'd like to be here."

Percy tried his last card. "I know, and I'm sure Travis would like you to be here too. But I'm also sure that if he knew you skipped breakfast to be here, he wouldn't be happy."

For a minute, Katie pursed her lips and looked between the son of Poseidon and the son of Hermes. Then she sighed, letting her brown hair fall in front of her face. Slowly, she stood up from the chair and pushed it back. "I guess you're right. You'll let me know the moment he wakes up?"

"I swear on the Styx."

Katie waited a moment for the thunder to rumble overhead before she allowed a small smile in Percy's direction. "Ok. Thanks, Percy. You're a good friend."

The son of Poseidon flashed her a lopsided grin, escorting her out of the infirmary. "No problem, Katie. Don't worry about Travis. I'll watch him. And if anyone asks, I didn't see you tearing up at his bedside either."

Katie stopped outside the doorway and turned to him, her red-rimmed eyes wide and jaw dropped. "Percy, I-"

From inside the doorway, Percy winked. "Now, shoo! Breakfast waits for no one."

Even after he closed the door, he watched from the window to make sure Katie went to the pavilion for breakfast. It was a good thing he did, too, because he caught her sneaking glances back at the infirmary. Each time, he waved her away. Finally, she disappeared into the dining area. Only then did Percy allow himself to return to Travis's bedside and seat himself in the chair Katie had been occupying.

There was no one else in the infirmary other than the son of Poseidon and the half-blood scout. Percy sighed and looked down at the figure laying still on the bed. The only sign of life was the steady rising and falling of his chest.

"What did you find, Travis?" Percy muttered to himself. "What was so important that they would send a monster after you?"

There was no answer, but Percy hadn't expected one. He sighed again and settled back against the chair. He hadn't slept well last night, his mind plagued with constant nightmares. Demigod dreams were bad, but these nightmares weren't demigod dreams. He wasn't quite sure what to make of them.

He was just dozing off in the chair when he sensed something was different in the room. Immediately, his eyes snapped open. He couldn't see anyone else in the door besides him and Travis, but that didn't mean someone wasn't there. There weren't many places to hide in the infirmary...

Maybe it was the monster coming to finish off Travis. But how would it have gotten into camp, past the borders? They couldn't have a spy. Not another.

Percy stood up warily, green eyes flickering around the room. The shift in the room's atmosphere was still tangible, but what had caused it? He spun in a slow circle, his instincts telling him to investigate but his logic telling him not to leave Travis. Carefully scanning the area, he turned back to check on Travis.

And found a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at him.

Percy took a step back, biting off a curse as it formed on his lips. Quickly, he regained his composure and bent down to talk to the now-conscious son of Hermes. "Travis, hey. Hey. Can you hear me?"

The blue eyes remained locked on his sea green ones. Slowly, Travis blinked. His mouth opened a little, and he grunted out a "yes". His voice was hoarse, and cracked in the middle of uttering that simple word. Percy hurried to get him a glass of water, holding it to the boy's lips as he drank greedily.

Once he had emptied the glass, Travis collapsed back onto the bed, obviously exhausted. He started to speak, but Percy was quick to hush him. "Travis, relax. You're in camp, you're safe. You can tell us the report once you have more energy. You weren't supposed to wake up so soon." He pushed Travis back until he was laying in almost the exact position as before he was awake. He expected that to be the end of it, so he was surprised when Travis spoke.

"Percy..." he croaked, voice still damaged despite Percy's best efforts. He tried to clear it, but it did little good. "K-Kronos... Ethan is the host..."

"Ethan?" Percy repeated, cursing under his breath. So that was why Kronos and his forces had been so inactive the last couple of weeks. Still, he couldn't believe the son of Nemesis would do such a thing. Percy shook his head, refocusing on the son of Hermes. "Thank you, Travis. This information is invaluable. But you need to rest, you're exhausted and if Katie knows I didn't-"

Travis cut him off. "That's not all..." he said ominously, his voice growing stronger the more he spoke. Percy remained quiet, wondering what else he could have to say. "Kronos... put a bomb... on the Brooklyn Bridge."

Percy felt all the color drain from his face. "A bomb?"

Travis nodded.

"When's it set to blow?" He asked, knowing that Travis needed to rest but this information was too important to wait.

Travis flinched. "Tonight," he whispered. "It's on one of the legs of the bridge... It'll blow tonight."

Percy cursed again, louder, and stood up. Already making his way out of the infirmary, he called back, "Thanks, Travis! Get some rest or Katie will kill us both!"

The slamming of the infirmary door behind him swallowed up any response the son of Hermes had.

First, Percy jogged to the pavilion. He swore on the Styx to let Katie know the moment Travis woke up, and he had no intention of dying a painful death because he didn't tell her. He skidded to a stop in the entranceway, scanning the crowd. But there was so many demigods, he couldn't make her out. Growling in frustration, he gave up looking and shouted, "Hey, shut up!"

Immediately, the pavilion went silent. All eyes stared at the son of Poseidon.

He winced under all the attention, regretting this course of action. But he couldn't go back now. Steeling himself, he shouted, "Katie, Connor, Travis woke up!"

There was a scrambling of limps against bodies, and the two demigods shot past Percy in a blur. Silence reigned in the pavilion, everyone wondering what else the general of their make-shift army had to say.

Remembering the news about the bomb, Percy locked eyes with the old centaur at the head table. In the dead silence of the pavilion, he said for all to hear, "Chiron, call a counselor's meeting in the Big House. There's news." Unable to take more of the staring, he turned and began to jog towards the Big House. From behind him, he heard Chiron demanding a meeting in five minutes.

 

The rec room was unnaturally quiet. All the head counselors were there, excluding Travis. Even Katie and Connor attended, albeit after some persuading. But to one passing by, the room sounded empty.

It wasn't like that a moment ago.

A moment ago, Percy was telling them how Travis woke up, which earned shouts from Katie that he swore to tell her as soon as he woke up. Percy did his best to continue on, saying that Ethan was the host for Kronos. This also earned a fair share of yelling. Everyone thought it would be Luke that accepted the role of host of Kronos, so Travis's news shocked them all.

Personally, Percy wasn't sure what to think about that. It meant that Luke was able to be redeemed, which seemed to make Annabeth happy, if her facial expressions upon hearing the news were anything to go by. Her gray eyes shone with excitement in the chaos of the rec room. Annabeth was happy, but what about him? No matter the things that Luke had done to them, Annabeth wanted to save him. If she had the choice, would she save Luke or himself?

He didn't want to know the answer to that question.

Once Chiron quieted everyone down to a minimal noise level, Percy delivered the worst news yet: the bomb.

And suddenly, all noise died. Everyone stared at the son of Poseidon with wide eyes, expressions varying. Some bore confusion. Others fear. And even more desperation, like they were begging for him to start laughing and say it was a sick joke.

Only one face held determination.

Annabeth Chase stood up from her seat as the leader of the Athena cabin, looking around at all the others. Her gray eyes locked with Percy's for a fraction of a second, and Percy felt any fears he had settle. Annabeth had a plan.

Thank the gods.

"Guys, we can stop this bomb. This is a lot of news to take in, but Travis did us a huge favor by telling us now. We just have to get to the Brooklyn Bridge before sundown, and disarm this bomb. Right? There's no reason to be worried," she assured. Percy watched as the tensions melted away, shoulders relaxing and color returning to faces.

Annabeth looked at Chiron. "We need a group to go find and disarm that bomb, Chiron. It doesn't need to be a quest, but several people should go. The Brooklyn Bridge is huge, and we'll need as many people to go as we can manage."

The old centaur nodded. "Ok. Five of you may go. Annabeth will lead, since she came up with the plan. Any volunteers?"

For a long moment, no one moved. Then Percy raised his hand, a smile on his lips as he looked at Annabeth. "I know this will come as a surprise, but I'll go."

Annabeth smirked at him. "A huge surprise, Seaweed Brain."

Glancing back at the others seated around the table, Annabeth caught a glimpse of her friend Silena's smug face staring at the blonde girl and the son of Poseidon. Almost immediately, however, the smug smirk melted away as the daughter of Aphrodite looked across the table with worried blue eyes.

The son of Hephaestus met her gaze with his steady brown eyes. They were crinkled at the edges with concern. Annabeth watched Silena shake her head slightly, her long black hair, like satin, rustle around her head.

The crinkle around his eyes tightened, and Charles Beckendorf pleaded with his girlfriend in the telepathic way that only couples know how to do. She shook her head again, desperately.

Beck stood up, brown eyes never leaving Silena's blue. "I'll go."

Silena stood up, too, her blue eyes starting to crystalize with tears. "Charlie, no!"

For the first time since the meeting started, Beckendorf broke eye contact. His brown eyes flew over to Annabeth's like hawks, piercing her gray eyes. He pinned her in place with the emotion in them. The loathing to leave camp and the daughter of Aphrodite he had come to adore. The fear that he wouldn't get him. The fear for the ones on the Brooklyn Bridge at that very moment. But overall, the determination.

"I'm probably the only one here that knows how to disarm the bomb," he stated calmly. "I don't know what you plan on doing if no one in your company can disarm it."

Annabeth cursed herself for not thinking of that sooner. Truthfully, she had been so caught up in the emotion of it that she hadn't thought to what would happen when they found the bomb. If they found the bomb.

Still, even though Charles Beckendorf was clearly a crucial member to have on the team, Annabeth wasn't oblivious to the panic of one of her best friends. She glanced over at Silena, who remained standing, face pointed towards Beckendorf. Then she looked back at the son of Hephaestus himself.

"Are you sure about this, Beck? Can't anyone else disarm the bomb? Jake Mason, maybe, or Nyssa, or-"

He cut her off mid-suggestion. "No, none of the others know how to disarm it. They haven't been through the same studying that I have. They might know how to disarm a simple one, but we don't know what kind of bomb or device Kronos planted on the bridge. The best bet for a successful mission is that I take care of it."

As a daughter of Athena, Annabeth couldn't deny that every word out of Beck's mouth was logical and reasonable. But she still loathed to do that to Silena. For a moment, she debated internally on the proper course of action.

She glanced back at Beck, looked into his eyes. The conviction was there, the absolute belief that he was the only one in camp that could properly disarm any bomb they came across. Or he would die trying. Annabeth sighed.

She cast an apologetic wince towards Silena before saying, "Alright, Beck is the third member. We still need two more."

Although Annabeth was expecting it, the speed at which Silena snapped her head around to stare at her brought concern. "I'll go," the daughter of Aphrodite said hurriedly. "I might not be able to disarm a bomb," she snuck a glare at Beck, "but I can help look and I'll do whatever I can to ensure that the bomb doesn't blow."

Even before she finished her mini-speech, Annabeth was nodding. After all, she had expected it. If Beck went, she knew Silena would too. "Ok. One more person."

The remaining camp counselors all looked at each other, none of them especially thrilled to be running headfirst into what might be a flaming death. Or, at the very least, the death of their friends. Just as Annabeth was about to suggest a competition of rock-paper-scissors to decide the unfortunate demigod, the door to the rec room creaked open.

All eyes shot to the door.

A head full of curly brown hair peeked around the corner, two adequate-sized horns sticking up out of the hair like twin giraffes attempting to hide within a bush. When silence greeted the new arrival, he opened the door a little more and allowed two green eyes to peer into the room. Seeing everyone staring, he made a noise of surprise before fully opening the door.

"I was just looking for Percy," the satyr said nervously, standing in the front of the long ping-pong table packed with half bloods. "Malcolm said I could find him in here, but I didn't realize a meeting was going on otherwise-"

Percy was up and out of his chair before Grover was even fully in the room. It was his enveloping hug that cut off the satyr's sentence, as well as his protest to the apology. "It's good to see you, G-Man! Don't worry about interrupting, we were all kinda just sitting around waiting for someone to join our not-a-quest. How's nature?"

Grover didn't answer the question, instead posing on of his own. "You have a 'not-a-quest'? What even is that?"

Still standing, Annabeth impatiently answered for Percy. Didn't they know what Kronos wasn't going to wait for them to get a group together before placing the bomb? "Hi, Grover. Travis just told us that Kronos put a bomb on the Brooklyn Bridge and we're going on a mission to find it and disarm it before it can blow up the bridge. We're taking a group of five, I'm the leader. Percy, Beck, and Silena are going. You want in?"

The flustered satyr blinked a few times, green eyes wide. Slowly, he nodded. "Sure. I'll join your quest. Maybe I could ask some dryads or nymphs to help us find the bomb once we get there."

"Perfect." Annabeth grinned and glanced back at Chiron. "Chiron, we have our team. When should we leave?"

The centaur glanced at his watch. "You leave in an hour. The sooner you get there, the better. Hopefully, you'll be able to find it by this afternoon and get it before it goes off tonight." He looked up and let his old eyes meet those of the demigods on the team. "Annabeth, Percy, Beckendorf, Silena, Grover. Good luck."

From the table, Clarisse la Rue snorted. "They'll need it," she muttered. "This is a suicide mission."

Ignoring the snarky daughter of Ares, the five teammates hurried out of the Big House. After all, they only had one hour until departure.

Percy glanced at the still-rising sun as he jogged towards his cabin. Let's hope this would be a quick mission, unlike any of the quests he had experienced. But even as he thought that, he knew that his luck was never that good.

Maybe this would be an exception to the rule.


	2. Chapter 2

Third Person POV

Percy glanced at the still-rising sun as he jogged towards his cabin. Let's hope this would be a quick mission, unlike any of the quests he had experienced. But even as he thought that, he knew that his luck was never that good.

Maybe this would be an exception to the rule.

The hour they had to pack passed quickly. There really wasn't much to prepare, since they weren't going on a cross-country quest. This was only a quick trip to Brooklyn, but they needed supplies nonetheless.

As he left his cabin to meet everyone at Half Blood Hill, Percy hefted a bag onto his shoulder. Inside, he had ambrosia, nectar, and a few bandages, in case things really took a turn for the worst. Ironically enough, he even brought along a couple bottles of water. His powers had grown during the past year, but he never knew if he would need the bottled water.

When he reached Half Blood Hill, everyone else was already there. Percy cursed internally. Of course he had to be the last one.

Annabeth smirked at him as he hurried up the hill to Thalia's Tree. The towering pine cast a shadow over their small group, bathing everyone's faces in darkness. "Took you long enough," she teased, adjusting her own bag slung over her shoulder.

Percy rolled his eyes. "My bad. I had to Iris-Message my mom before I left." He winced slightly, remembering how her eyes had gone wide when he reluctantly told her about the mission. But he knew how much she worried and if things went sour, he wanted to talk to her before they did.

No one had anything to say. Chiron was absent, presumably speaking with the other campers about the dangers the five faced on this mission. Percy gazed back at camp for a moment, watching the valley bathed in the bright light of near-noon. He turned back to his friends, noticing the lack of something important.

"Where's Argus and the van?"

The other four followed his gaze to the empty forest behind them. "We've got a bit of walking ahead of us," Annabeth answered, exchanging a glance with Beckendorf.

"I have a garage," the son of Hephaestus explained, "a little ways away from camp. We can take my truck, so that way Argus can stay and help Chiron at camp."

Percy nodded slowly, already feeling an ache in his feet. But he ignored it, instead saying with more confidence than he felt, "What're we waiting for, then?"

Something in his gut protested, but his feet carried him out of camp and through the borders. He looked back once, but the camp was gone. In its place was a small, quiet strawberry farm.

 

"Are we almost there?"

Annabeth growled low in her throat, glaring at the son of Poseidon. "Percy, like I said last time you asked..." She glanced down at her watch. "Five minutes ago, I don't know. Why don't you run ahead and ask Beck?"

Percy's green eyes flickered from Annabeth's furious gray ones to land on the back of Beck's head. The son of Hephaestus had taken the lead, showing them the way to his garage. He and Silena walked alone together, heads leaning towards each other in what was clearly a private conversation. Percy winced, imagining himself interrupting their chat and facing the full wrath of the daughter of Aphrodite.

He looked back at Annabeth, a grin on his lips as he locked eyes with his beautiful best friend. "I'd much rather annoy you. Silena is much scarier than you are."

"Oh, is she?" Annabeth asked, narrowing her eyes dangerously. But even as he felt a shiver go up his spine, Percy couldn't help but stick to his original argument.

"Yes. At least I know that if you attacked me, you only half mean it. And it would be quick. Silena would torture me with makeup and perfume before she killed me."

Annabeth made a weird face, scrunching her nose up in what could've been a sneeze or laughter. But before she could do anything, Beck called from the front. "We're here!"

"Thank the gods," Grover muttered, jogging past Percy and Annabeth. "I didn't know how much longer I could stand listening to you two fighting like an old married couple."

He ignored their twin shouts of "Hey!"

 

When he heard that Beckendorf had a garage, he wasn't expecting what he walked into. Percy was expecting a sleek place with a ton of different vehicles, some full operational and others still works-in-progress. It would be spacious and clean, almost futuristic in its design. After all, the guy was known for his innovative inventions in camp.

What Percy walked into, however, was nearly the opposite.

His first impression was that the area was way too small to be of much use. The garage was little more than a glorified shed, hidden beneath the shade of a pollenating tree. Yellow pollen coated the entire structure, and Percy worried that if he sneezed, he'd cause the whole thing to come crashing down. He tried to hold his breath best he could. He didn't want to destroy the cars in the incident of sneezing.

He didn't want to walk the entire way to Brooklyn. How had Travis managed to run this whole distance? His godly genetics must've helped.

Speaking of the cars, however, they weren't at all what Percy pictured. Unlike the many he imagined, there were only three vehicles parked inside the shed. One was a small black motorcycle, an older model that couldn't have been less than fifty years old. The condition was adequate, but Percy didn't want to even think about riding it.

Next to the motorcycle was a light pink Volkswagen beetle. It reminded Percy of Barbie's car, which he had seen when his mom babysat their neighbor's daughter when they were both still little. He idly wondered what had ever happened to that girl.

"My car!" Silena squealed upon catching sight of the pink Volkswagen. (Percy wanted to know how she hadn't seen it earlier, with its bright color. Annabeth sent him a glance, as if she knew what he was thinking, and he quickly shut up.)

"It's so cute!" Annabeth agreed half-heartedly, walking over to investigate the reliability and safety features of the small car. Beckendorf waved Percy and Grover over to the final car in the "garage".

It was, as promised, a truck. For that, Percy really couldn't complain. But he would always.

Its black paint was peeling, revealing a rusted metal corpse beneath. The back of it was so warped with time, Percy couldn't distinguish its make or model. For all he knew, this truck came from the golden 1920s before the Great Depression, when every American was scrambling to buy cars.

That was probably unlikely, but Percy hadn't exactly passed history with flying colors.

Beckendorf stood in front of the truck, his thick arms crossed against his chest, gazing at the vehicle with proud eyes. "Isn't she a beauty?" he asked Percy and Grover, eyes flickering to look at them before going back to his truck.

Before Percy could say something he'd regret (he had no right, though, seeing as how he was driving Paul's old rusty car which was almost as bad as this), Grover stepped in. "Yeah. Where'd you get her?"

"My mom was fixing her up," Beck said. "But Mom ended up giving her to me as a present. I had until I was sixteen years old to learn how to fix her up and clean her up, and she was all mine. I put my heart and soul into this truck. And she's all mine now."

"That's actually really impressive, Beck," Percy said, eyebrows raised as he looked at the rusted vehicle with new eyes. "I know I wouldn't be able to do that. And certainly not as well as you clearly did."

The son of Hephaestus blushed. "Thanks. But you aren't a son of the god of inventions. Maybe if things were a little different, this would be your truck you're showing off and I'd be the son of Poseidon gawking."

"Hey! I'm not gawking, per say... It's more just... Admiring?" Percy tried in vain to defend himself, but there was no need. Beck and Grover looked at each other and laughed.

"I thought you were on my side, G-Man!"

Between laughs, Grover choked out, "I'm sorry, but you're such an easy target!"

"Ha-ha," Percy said sarcastically, pouting at his friends. Even as he tried to enjoy the moment of normalcy, however, his mind kept wandering back to the war currently taking place. What was Kronos doing right now? Was Ethan able to contain him or was the son of Nemesis completely gone? Was Kronos still within the confines of the mortal body or had he already found his way to freedom? And what happened to Luke, the son of Hermes that everyone thought would be the new host for Kronos?

And, most importantly, what did Kronos hope to accomplish by putting a bomb on the Brooklyn Bridge? Even if his plan worked (and that was a big "if", especially with Percy and the gang on the trail), what impact would that have on the war? Sure, the demigods might lose access to the bridge if it collapses, and that might weaken them in the war transportation-wise, but there were other ways to get where they needed to go. Plus they had a son of Poseidon on their side. It wouldn't be a problem getting across a little bit of water.

Maybe Kronos did it because of the mortals. Maybe he wanted to strike fear into the hearts of the mortals, thinking that there's a terrorist out there. But that wouldn't make any sense, because the mortals are already terrified that a terrorist attack will kill them at any given moment.

Could Kronos be baiting them?

No. Percy immediately shook the foolish thought from his mind. The Titan hadn't known that Travis would be spying, nor had he known that Travis would be choosing that particular warehouse to investigate. He couldn't have planted the information, because he didn't know where the son of Hermes would be looking. And if he wanted Travis to spread the word, why had he tried to kill the demigod by sending a monster out after him? That wouldn't make any sense. It couldn't be a trap.

But that still left the question: Why?

"Percy? Percy!" Grover exclaimed, waving a hand in front of his best friend's face. Percy blinked back into the present.

"Sorry, sorry. What's going on?" He looked around, taking in his surroundings once more. Annabeth and Silena had joined the boys at the truck, and the daughter of Aphrodite was preparing to hop into the passenger's seat so she could sit next to Beckendorf. But everyone stopped and stared at the son of Poseidon.

Has he mentioned yet that he wasn't very fond of the attention of a group larger than two?

"We're set to head off now," Beck answered. "You ready?"

Percy tried to laugh it off and lie his way out of their concern. "Of course. I was just admiring the décor of the place. How'd you even get this shed in the first place?"

He would've given himself a pat on the back if that wouldn't draw more attention. He expertly changed the subject. They didn't teach you that in Camp Half Blood!

Beck brightened up as Silena finally seated herself within the truck. Annabeth began to climb into the bed of the truck as the son of Hephaestus answered. "I saved up my allowance for weeks, months even. Then I built this shed, with the help from Chiron and a couple of my siblings. I figured that we could make it bigger, later, and other people could store vehicles here. Just for quick recon missions. The kind that are insignificant enough that the official camp vans aren't needed, but the ones that are important enough that arriving in a chariot would arouse suspicion. You know?"

Having only been on the significant missions, for the most part, Percy really didn't know. "I completely understand."

Beck grinned at him. "We can talk more about this later. But for now, we have a mission that needs finishing! You can hop in the bed of the truck with Annabeth and Grover, if that's alright with you, Perce. I promise not to hit any potholes!" And Beck laughed at his own joke, hopping into the driver's seat of the rusty old truck. Percy tried to muster up a chuckle, realizing that there aren't really any potholes to hit, but it fell a little flat. Trying not to make a bigger fool out of himself than he already had, he clambered up into the bed of the truck.

As soon as he was sure everyone was within the boundaries of the truck, Beck started up the engine. He hit a button right above the rearview mirror and the far wall of the small shed-like garage opened up like a garage door. He revved the engine, then hit the gas pedal. Although it wasn't as fast as it probably should've been, the truck leaped out of the building and into the Long Island forest.

Percy grunted as the vehicle tossed him about. He wasn't fully seated when the engine started, and hadn't been given enough of a warning to gather his bearings before they were off. He was about to hit his head on the side of the truck bed when a soft, tanned hand reached down and steadied his body.

Annabeth helped him into a sitting position, leaning slightly against the wall he almost bashed his head into. She stared at him with her intense gray eyes, lips pulled into a small frown. Grover was sitting across from them, but it was as if he wasn't even there. His green eyes were locked on the passing greenery with a wistful mist to the orbs.

"Thanks," Percy said when Annabeth made no move to speak. It was a little creepy how she just stared at him without voicing her thoughts. Usually she was more open than this. "It'd suck to have to look for a bomb when I have a concussion."

"Don't worry about it," the daughter of Athena said automatically. "You'd do the same for me." She stopped, as if hesitating. But that was stupid, because Annabeth Chase never hesitated. "Are you okay, Percy?"

Not sure what the answer to that would be, Percy asked a question of his own. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Annabeth paused again before speaking. "You looked a little pale in Beck's garage. And you were staring off into space for a while. I know your brain is filled with seaweed, but you usually have a little more sense than to blankly gaze into nothingness."

"I just got a little claustrophobic in there, that's all. Plus, it was kind of hot. Temperature-wise. That might explain the whole 'staring into the distance' part," he lied. He wanted to tell her the truth, but how do you tell your best friend that you don't think they should rush into battle and save a bunch of mortals? Something here was wrong. And he didn't like it. Something was very, very-

Suddenly, the truck shook violently, nearly throwing the three friends out of the bed of the truck. Just in time, Percy caught Annabeth's waist and held into the side of the truck. Grover, thankfully, managed to grab his own side.

"Beck, what's going on?!" Percy cried, hoping the son of Hephaestus would be able to hear him over whatever chaos was ensuing.

"Monster!" came the reply.

Percy cursed and stood up a little. The truck was still going, moving forwards, so he had to use caution in looking around. He didn't see anything. "What is it?"

"Giant, by the looks of it! And it's coming back again!"

The son of Poseidon watched as, from out of the woods, a giant ran at the truck like a linebacker. It's shoulder was held forwards, perfect for ramming into the vehicle. "Look out!" Percy shouted, holding Annabeth a little tighter to him just as the truck rocked with the impact. It was like they were on a ship tossed in a deadly storm, the waves shaking them all which way. And there was nothing he could do.

Unless...

Taking a rare (read: common) moment of stupidity, Percy let go of Annabeth's waist. He looked down at her disoriented gray eyes and took in her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. "I'll stop the monster," he said. "But you guys need to keep going. Find the bomb. Disarm it. I'll catch up with you at the Brooklyn Bridge."

The daughter of Athena opened her mouth to protest, but Percy talked over her. "I'll catch up with you at the Brooklyn Bridge," he promised again. "Just find the bomb!"  
With that, Percy turned from Annabeth and did one of the most stupid things he had done in a while. He jumped out of the back of the moving truck, leaving his friends behind to disarm a bomb while he faced off with a giant.

He never said he was their general because of his amazing intelligence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little late, but expect next chapter to be up this weekend! Thanks!! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Third Person POV

With that, Percy turned from Annabeth and did one of the most stupid things he had done in a while. He jumped out of the back of the moving truck, leaving his friends behind to disarm a bomb while he faced off with a giant.

He never said he was their general because of his amazing intelligence.

Slowly, the giant approached the demigod. Its eyes darted from the son of Poseidon to the truck disappearing through the mess of trees and wilderness. Percy quickly took his ballpoint pen out of his pocket, waiting to uncap it. His green eyes stayed locked onto the monster, wondering if it would just give up now that the truck was gone.

He should've known that that wouldn't happen.

"Son of Poseidon!" The beast bellowed, shaking a fist at the demigod. Its beady eyes narrowed, gazing down at Percy with undisguised hatred. "You will be dinner!"

"I haven't even had lunch yet, and you're already thinking of dinner?" Percy snarked, getting into a stable fighting stance as he finally uncapped the ballpoint pen. From the cheap plastic sprang a glowing bronze sword, its blade shining in the light filtering through the leaves on the forest trees. "You gotta learn to eat less, man. Otherwise you'll end up fat. You know Echidna? Now there's a monster that ate one too many demigods between meals."

The giant roared, stomping its feet as it moved towards Percy. "You insult my mother?"

Cursing under his breath, Percy felt the color rush from his face. Why did he always have to find a way to piss off an already enraged powerful being? Luck wasn't on his side.

Shuffling back a step, Percy raised his arms up in a sign of surrender, one hand still wrapped around the hilt of his sword. "Look, I'm sorry! I didn't know she was your mother! I should've, though, because who else could birth a monster as ugly as you?"

Again, a shout of anger followed by a muttered curse. He wanted to get the beast angry, hoping it would be too blinded by rage to think with what little brain cells it had, but he didn't want it so angry that it'd just run over and rip his head off! "Come on, I'm not even trying yet!" he complained, returning his sword to his side and resuming his stance.

It was just in time, too, because a second later, the giant dashed towards him. For something so large, his speed was astounding. Percy had to bit back another oath as he just barely dodged the charging giant. There go his plans of ducking and stabbing it quickly in the stomach. He'd just have to improvise, then.

He was great at improvising. Really. Just ask Annabeth.

Percy spun around, sword at the ready, as he watched the giant pivot and turn itself around. The melody from the hokey-pokey jingled in his head, but he quickly vanished it. Now was not the time.

The giant didn't immediately rush the demigod this time, however. Apparently, Percy had underestimated how many brain cells it had. It watched him, its face still red with rage, but made no move forwards.

Eventually, the lack of movement began to creep Percy out. Making a little jabbing motion with his sword, he yelled, "Well? Come and get me!"

To his surprise, the giant had the nerve to actually start laughing. Its belly shook in time with the trees, a deep rumbling noise coming from his throat that rustled the leaves above. "The ones that wish for death are the tastiest," he announced, still laughing.

"I am not suicidal!" Percy growled, sprinting towards the chuckling giant. Only a few feet from the giant did he realize that he just fell for the same trick he just tried to pull.

Shit.

Like flicking a switch, the giant stopped laughing. Just as Percy was within range, he swept out his hand and knocked the son of Poseidon to the ground. Percy landed with a grunt on the still-damp grass, his orange camp shirt collecting the moisture. He used that water, as meager as it was, as an energy boost, returning the air to his lungs and his feet to the earth. He leapt up, sword at the ready.

But the giant was ready too. It swung a huge hand, about to smack Percy around some more. Percy saw it moving, as if in slow motion. He lifted up his sword, trying to protect himself from another fall like the one he just experienced. He didn't know if the moisture would be enough to help him a second time. He swung the sword around, desperately trying to slow time so the sword would get there in time.

Flesh and bronze met in a flash of gold.

 

"Beck! Beck, stop the truck!" Annabeth screamed, but the son of Hephaestus must not have heard her. She turned around, looking back to where she last saw Percy when he foolishly jumped out of the truck to face off with the giant. But the truck moved too fast, and all she could see was a wall of trees.

Frustrated with herself, Percy, Beck, and pretty much the rest of the world, Annabeth stood up in the bed of the truck. "Annabeth, what're you doing?" Grover bleated, sitting against the side of the truck. "Sit down!" The daughter of Athena chose to ignore the satyr.

She was almost to the back window, ready to knock on it and get that idiot's attention, when the truck hit a rock. It jumped, nearly tossing Annabeth out of the vehicle and onto the grass below. Thankfully, Grover grabbed her hand and pulled her back into a sitting position.

"I know we have to go back for Percy," the satyr said, "but getting yourself concussed falling out of the back of a truck won't help!"

Annabeth grunted her acknowledgement, loathe to admit that her curly haired friend had a point.

Mercifully, hitting the rock caused Beck to stop the truck for a moment to check that none of the tires popped. When he opened the driver's side door, Annabeth was there, arms crossed. "We have to go back."

"Back?" Beck frowned, glancing backwards at the wall of trees. "Why?"

She wanted to scream, maybe punch the son of Hephaestus in the face, but she did neither. Instead, she restrained herself. "Percy is back there."

"What? Why?" Silena asked, eavesdropping from the front seat of the truck. "What happened?"

Annabeth stubbornly kept her gaze on Beck's, wondering what Silena would see if she looked into her gray eyes. The daughter of Aphrodite always had a talent for perfectly guessing one's emotions through their eyes, no matter how good they were at hiding them. "He jumped out to stop the monster."

Beck cursed. "I was wondering why the giant stopped chasing us," he admitted.

"Let's go, then! Percy said-"

"Annabeth," Beck interrupted calmly. He waited for the daughter of Athena to meet his eyes. "Percy can take care of himself. It's just one giant, right? And he's had years of training. What did he tell you before he jumped out of the truck?"

Annabeth frowned. "How'd you-"

She didn't get to finish that sentence. "Percy is a smart guy, Annabeth, as much as he pretends he's an idiot. And he cares about his friends. He wouldn't just jump out of the truck without saying something, giving someone instructions."

"How do you know he didn't tell Grover?"

Beck's shoulders shook in silent laughter. "Trust me. I know he told you."

Raising an eyebrow at the grinning son of Hephaestus, Annabeth reluctantly conveyed Percy's message. "He told us to find the bomb and disarm it. He'd meet up with us at the Brooklyn Bridge."

Beck nodded. "We should do what he tells us, then." When Annabeth opened her mouth to protest, Beck said, "He knows what he's doing, Annabeth. Trust him. He won't let us down."

The daughter of Athena stared at the broad-shouldered son of Hephaestus for a long moment. She felt Silena's eyes on her from within the truck. She could practically sense Grover's gaze locked on the duo from the bed of the truck. But then Annabeth sighed, lowering her gaze from Beck's brown orbs. "Fine. You're right. Percy is the son of Poseidon. He can take care of himself." Shoulders slumping slightly, Annabeth turned to head to the back of the truck. "We better find that bomb, then."

Beck nodded, watching Annabeth go. He called after her, "He'll be fine, Annabeth. He can handle himself."

They didn't know how wrong those words would come to be.

 

Percy watched with a smidge of self-satisfaction as the giant dissolved into golden dust. Then, a nonexistent wind blew it around the small area. The scattered dust turned the battlefield into something that looked more like a fairy's hideout than a giant's lair.

Percy swiped absently at his black hair with the hand no holding his sword, trying in vain to get out any particles of golden monster dust hidden in there. Once he believed it clean enough, he capped his sword and put the ballpoint pen in his pocket. I better go catch up with the others, he thought. Annabeth's going to kill me.

He was about to turn around when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Immediately, he froze. There was something else there.

But where?

His green eyes scanned the area, looking for something, anything wrong.

Dead silence greeted him. It was as if the wind stopped rustling the leaves, the birds stopped living in the trees, and the world stopped breathing.

A twig snapped on Percy's right.

The son of Poseidon spun around, coming face to face with a blonde man with a scar on the side of his face. Seeing the narrowed green gaze locked on him, the blue eyed man raised his arms in surrender. But there was the hint of a smirk on his lips.

In a voice that had no right to be that friendly, not to him, he said, "I'm sorry, Percy."

"Luke," Percy growled. "What're you-?"

There was a prick on his neck, like someone pinched the skin an inch below his left earlobe. Percy felt a cold hand grab his neck on the right side, steadying him. Something was injected into his body, originating at the pinched spot of skin.

Suddenly, the world tilted. It blurred on the edges, swaying. The hand gently eased the son of Poseidon to the ground. His vision darkened, tunneled, until he was staring up at two faces. A pair of blue eyes and a pair of gold.

Then the world faded into nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was short! Next one will be longer, I promise.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys get an early chapter today!! Expect the next one on about Sunday! :) 
> 
> Just a warning: You'll *love* the ending of this chapter. ;)

Third Person POV

Suddenly, the world tilted. It blurred on the edges, swaying. The hand gently eased the son of Poseidon to the ground. His vision darkened, tunneled, until he was staring up at two faces. A pair of blue eyes and a pair of gold.

Then the world faded into nothingness.

Percy opened his eyes and could immediately tell that he was trapped within a dream. Not a demigod dream, but the same dream that's been keeping him up at night for weeks. It wasn't easy being a demigod, especially when it came to the dreams and lack of sleep, but it had been weeks since Percy slept well.

And it was all because of this one dream.

Actually, nightmare was a better term.

He looked around, knowing exactly what he would see when he turned around. But his body couldn't stop from spinning.

Manhattan was on fire.

The skyscrapers burned with a heated inferno, buildings crumbling into the bay. The ones unfortunate enough to be kept inland crumbled atop each other, one leaning on the other like a wounded man draped over his friend's shoulder. The entire city was alit with a smoky, fiery death.

Percy tried to gather his power and make the water in the bay rise, tried to wash out the flames. But he tried until his vision swam. And the water refused to so much as trickle onto the shore. No matter what he did, Percy couldn't connect to that little well of power in his stomach.

"Perseus Jackson," a voice drawled from his left. His body rotated slowly to face the visitor.

A tall man was standing next to him, dressed in a black, collared button-up shirt and straight black slacks. His golden eyes peered out of the holes of a navy blue mask concealing his entire face.

"That mask clashes with your color scheme," was the first thing out of Percy's mouth. Immediately, he cursed himself. Idiot. Trying to get back on topic, he continued, saying, "What have you done to me, Kronos?"

The titan laughed. "I haven't done anything to you, Perseus."

The demigod raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Then let me save the city! I know you did something to block my powers. Let me extinguish the fire!"

The immortal being had the nerve to laugh again. It was a mocking sound, grating on his ears like the sound of two rocks rubbing against each other. He shuddered. "I did nothing to block your powers. But you cannot save the city, fool."

"Watch me," Percy challenged, eyes narrowed.

Kronos continued as if Percy didn't say anything. "You cannot save the city if you're the one that caused it to fall."

"What? You're lying! I'd... I would never... You're lying!" Percy shouted, arms shooting out as he reached for the titan. Kronos made no move to dodge, instead allowing the demigod to grab him. The golden-eyed being laughed, wordlessly taunting the son of Poseidon.

"Who are you?" Percy growled low in his throat, a hand reaching to yank the mask off the laughing titan's face. He did, the mask remaining in his hand for only a second before it landed on the ground by his feet. He was looking into his own golden-eyed face, the lips turned upwards in mocking laughter. It echoed in his ears, rattled in his brain until it drowned out the quickening beats of his heart.

"You cannot save the city if you're the one that caused it to fall, Perseus Jackson!"

The world started to fade until the only thing he could see were those insidious golden eyes lodged in his cruel, laughing face. Even after that too disappeared, the laughter rang in his head, reminding him of a world that he'd rather die than see.

 

Percy woke up to someone screaming. It took him longer than he'd like to admit to realize that those were his screams. Honestly, you'd think he'd be used to this by now. After all, how many nights at camp had he woken up screaming because of the very same dream? Excuse me, nightmare. My apologies.

He tried to jump up out of his bed, only to find that he wasn't in his bed. Nor had he fallen to the floor of his cabin, rolling off the mattress in his distress. He wasn't even underneath the bed, which had happened more times than he's comfortable with sharing.

This was unnerving, to say the least.

Disoriented, Percy looked around in an attempt to locate his position. He was sitting up on the ground, unrestrained. That almost rules out a kidnapping. At least the kind in which the kidnapper is looking for money from an outside source. They weren't worried about him escaping.

The room he was in had only one door, located directly behind him. There were no windows, but an eerie glow seemed to come from the walls to illuminate the room in a spooky green light. Absurdly, Percy remembered something Rachel once told him when they were watching The Lion King at his house.

"Lime green is the color of evil, Perce."

Where was he? He couldn't even tell if he was in New York still. He had been in New York before, right? Why were his memories so fuzzy? Wondering to himself, he raked a hand through his unruly hair and flinched. He probed at a sore spot towards the base of his skull, wincing as he realized he might have a concussion.

Maybe I'm just confused, he hoped. Annabeth will come walking through that door any minute and...

Suddenly, the memories flooded him. There was a bomb. On the Brooklyn Bridge. Annabeth was leading the mission. It was him, Annabeth, Grover, Beck, and... Silena. Silena was the last member, right? Right. And he wasn't with them now because... There was a giant! That's right, he jumped out of the truck like an idiot to face the giant! Did he win? Yeah, that sounds right. If he didn't win, he'd be a shade in the Underworld by now, so he must've won. But what happened after that?

Behind him, the lone door creaked open.

Percy shot to his feet, turning to watch two people walk into his room. And then he remembered the rest.

Two pairs of eyes watched him collapse. One blue, one gold. And then the world faded. 

"Luke, Kronos," he hissed in greeting, one hand balled into a fist as the other reached into his pocket for Riptide. Too late, he realized that his pockets had been sewn up completely as he slept. Riptide was useless.

The golden-eyed Ethan Nakamura smirked, the eyepatch Percy remembered gone. "Don't bother," he said, noticing the hand trying desperately to find a fault in the seams now closing his pockets. "We have enough time to sew those pockets twice while you were out. Your sword is useless."

Percy narrowed his eyes. "How long was I out? What did you do to me?"

"Oh, that? Did you like it?" The titan teased, walking around the son of Poseidon like a lion stalking its prey. "I had the Athena children create that drug just for you. As long as its in your system, which it will be for another ten hours, your powers are completely useless. It also had the bonus effect of knocking you out for an hour and a half. Long enough for us to transport you here and make sure you were defenseless."

"And where is here?" Percy asked, hoping to keep the titan talking. He spun slowly, making sure not to leave his back to the titan of time. Luke Castellan stood in the corner near the door, watching with his arms crossed and an indescribable look on his scarred face.

Kronos stopped, that infuriating smirk still present on his face. "Clever, trying to bait me into revealing our location. You want to contact your friends, send them in to save you? I'll tell you where we are, Perseus, but only because you'll never be able to get in touch with your friends."

Internally, Percy scoffed, but he didn't dare do anything out loud.

"I can see that you don't believe me. But once you realize what we're doing here, you won't want your friends to save you. You'll want to stay here."

Percy couldn't contain himself. "That's a lie!" He burst. "I'll never want to help you!"

Kronos raised an eyebrow, smirk growing. "That's the son of Poseidon I was looking for." His golden eyes left Percy to look at Luke, still standing near the door. "It appears you were right, Castellan. He is exactly the same as he was when he retrieved that lightning bolt."

The son of Hermes said nothing, but his lips twitched upwards in a small smirk of his own.

Kronos brought his attention back to the son of Poseidon. "You see, Perseus, you may think now that you don't want to join us, but when you find out what we're doing, you'll be thrilled to join."

"I'll never join you," Percy spat. "I'll never betray my friends." He tried to call on his powers, any of them, only to find that what Kronos said was true: they were useless right now.

"Don't think of it as betrayal," the titan suggested. "At least, not until you've seen what we can do."

"What you can do?" Percy repeated incredulously. "What, like blowing up the Brooklyn Bridge?"

Percy watched as Ethan's face contorted with malicious laughter, head thrown back. "Oh, yes. Yes, the Brooklyn Bridge! Travis was such great help, wasn't he, Luke?"

Percy looked between the son of Hermes and the titan of time in confusion. "Travis? Travis Stoll? He would never betray Olympus!"

"And he didn't," Kronos confirmed. "But he brought you back the information we wanted him to find. Do you think it was a mistake that he made it to Camp Half Blood safely? If we wanted him dead, he would've been dead."

The color rushed from Percy's face. "So the Brooklyn Bridge is..."

"A trap!" Kronos finished gleefully. He gestured to the wall to Percy's left, illuminated by the green glow. It reflected in the golden eyes of the titan and made him look more maniacal than he appeared. "Shall we watch your friends as they reach the bridge?"

Horror-stricken, Percy watched as the wall turned into a large screen to display what he believed to be the last moments of his friends' lives. He had to get a message out to them!

 

Dusk was still an hour or two away when the three demigods and the satyr pulled up at the base of the bridge. Annabeth's gray eyes flickered back and forth, scanning the tree line. Any second now, a son of Poseidon with unruly black hair and startlingly green eyes would step out of those trees. Any second now...

Beck helped Silena out of the truck before walking to the back to help Annabeth and Grover out. The satyr disembarked first, leaving the wide-eyed daughter of Athena behind. She watched the trees for a moment more.

"Annabeth," Beck said softly, reaching a hand up to help her down. "It'll take Percy some time to get here. But that doesn't mean he isn't coming. We have to start looking for the bomb."

For a moment, it appeared that Annabeth either didn't hear him or she didn't care. But then she blinked slowly, nodding. Wordlessly, she vaulted out of the bed of the truck without accepting Beck's outstretched hand.

"Let's start looking."

They had been looking for nearly forty-five minutes before an out of breath satyr paused to ask a question. "Do we know what this bomb looks like?"

Listlessly, Annabeth answered. "No."

"Are we even sure it's here?" Silena dared voice.

There was a brief pause of hesitation. "No."

Just as Grover was going to suggest they regroup and try to contact camp (and more importantly, Travis Stoll), a shout came from a little ways down. "Guys, I found it!"

The device was bigger than Annabeth expected it would be, and it wasn't at all where she thought it would be placed. It wasn't massive by any standards, but it was a lot bigger than a normal bomb. And of course, she only knows that for purely academic reasons.

The bomb was about the size of a large pizza box. It was only a few inches off from being completely flat, but it still had the thickness of a smartphone. It was made with silver metal, but Annabeth could only guess at what it was. There were a few buttons flashing on it, but none of them were a timer. In the upper left corner there was a blank rectangular box, probably where the time until detonation would be displayed once the bomb was activated.

The only thing that didn't make any sense was the location. Beck found the contraption on a leg of the Brooklyn Bridge close to the bottom. It was nowhere near the middle and nowhere near structurally significant to the support of the entire bridge. Of course, it would hurt the bridge and cause the local authorities to close it for a while, but that was about the extent of the damage. Wouldn't Kronos put it somewhere else? Somewhere where it would cause harm to more mortals?

Annabeth shook those thoughts from her mind. No, there had to be a reason he put it here. But what?

She was thinking so hard that she missed the most obvious answer.

"I'll disarm it," Beck announced, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and slipping on a pair of latex gloves. "It doesn't appear to be activated, but I don't want to wait until it is."

"Is it safe?" Silena asked, worrying a pink lip between two rows of shining white teeth.

Beck shot his girlfriend an easy smile, making a little of the tension drip off her shoulders. "It should be. There might be a protocol to stop people from tampering with it, but I bet this should be fine. Even if it blew, I don't see how it would really affect the people on the bridge above."

So, someone had noticed other than Annabeth herself. But Beck wasn't jumping to crazy conclusions. She must be on edge since Percy still hadn't gotten back yet.

As Beck set to work on disarming the bomb, Silena pulled Annabeth aside a little ways away. "I know you're worried about Percy, but you have to relax, Annabeth," she instructed, letting a little bit of charmspeak into her voice to ease her friend's unfounded fears. "He can handle himself."

Annabeth sighed. "I know. I know. I'm supposed to be the leader, but all I really want to do right now is go back for him. What's wrong with me?" This last question was directed more to herself than to Silena, but the daughter of Aphrodite answered anyways.

"Nothing is wrong with you, Annabeth. Not in a normal sense, at least. I know why you're acting like this."

The daughter of Athena looked at the daughter of Aphrodite with wide gray eyes. "You do? Then why? I'm usually not like this." Her brow furrowed. "Maybe it's the stress of this war and Luke and my dad and-"

"You're in love, Annabeth."

Annabeth stopped her rambling and stared at her friend. She blinked a few times in rapid succession before finally managing a word. "What?"

Silena rolled her eyes. "For a daughter of Athena, you really can be ignorant. You love him, Annabeth, you know you do. You just don't want to admit it to yourself. I get it, he's really not that much of a looker. With that messy black hair, those striking green eyes, and that rugged jawline, he truly is the most ugly guy at camp. I can understand why you don't want to admit that you have the hots of the son of Poseidon."

Annabeth blushed bright pink. "I do not have 'the hots' for Percy!" She hissed, eyes flickering back and forth to see if either Grover or Beck heard. Thankfully, the two seemed blissfully unaware of the conversation occurring a few feet away. "We're just... Friends." She winced as she heard what sounded like a lame excuse even to her ears.

Silena raised an eyebrow, scoffing. "Right. Just friends."

Annabeth opened her mouth to offer some kind of response, even though she wasn't quite sure what she would've said. Thankfully, a shout from Grover standing near the bridge drew them back into the main focus of their outing.

The two demigoddesses jogged over, frowns set on their faces. "What's wrong?" Annabeth asked, analyzing the face of the satyr she had known for nearly ten years.

Grover stared at the bomb with eyes dilated with terror. "Is it supposed to be counting down?"

"Charlie?" Silena said softly, moving closer to the son of Hephaestus that hadn't stopped attempting to disarm the bomb, even as Grover shouted out his audible horror. But now, as the daughter of Aphrodite laid a delicate hand on his upper arm, his movement stilled.

Avoiding eye contact with any of the other three, he said lowly, "I don't know what happened. I must've tripped some kind of booby trap set in place in case someone tried to disarm it." His dark eyes shot a glance at the timer that was still counting down with each passing second of explanation. He heaved a heavy sigh, then continued to work. Annabeth almost missed it when he said, "You guys need to go."

"Go?" Silena repeated just as Annabeth was beginning to think she'd misheard. Her voice took on a slightly hysterical note. "I'm not going anywhere!"

Refusing to stop trying to disarm the bomb, Beck glanced over his shoulder towards Annabeth. "Please, take Silena away from here. Go back to the truck. Wait for Percy, and then go back to camp."

The stubborn daughter of Athena crossed her eyes and narrowed her gray eyes. "Disarm the bomb, Beck. We're not going anywhere."

Grover bleated his distress. But when Annabeth gestured for him to move with her head, he frowned. "If you guys aren't leaving, neither am I."

Despite the absurdity of losing all four campers due to stubbornness and pride, as well as an apparent lack of self-preservation, it was a touching moment. Beck put an end to it when he announced, "There's only one minute left!" Trying one last time to get the demigoddesses to see reason, he said, "Silena, Annabeth, please go!" He knew that, should they leave, Grover would follow.

But the daughter of Aphrodite wrapped her hands around her boyfriend's bicep, holding tight even in the face of death. "I'm not going anywhere."

Refraining from the public display of affection, Annabeth crossed her arms. "Never." As the timer continued to count down to the inevitable explosion, she looked around at each of the beings around her. "It's been an honor working with you guys. I wouldn't do it differently."

The timer reached fifteen seconds.

Silena smiled softly at her friends for what she thought would be the last time. "I'll see you guys in Elysium, then. We'll have to hold down the fort until anyone else arrives from the war."

Eight seconds.

Seven seconds.

"If any of us survive this by some miracle, tell Percy that I'm sorry, okay?" Annabeth asked. She got three nods in return, even by Beck who hadn't stopped trying to disarm the bomb.

Four seconds.

Three seconds.

"I'm sorry," the son of Hephaestus apologized softly.

One second.

 

Despite all his attempts, Percy hadn't been able to get in contact with his friends. He watched through a camera located on a leg of the bridge as they rolled up in the same rusty truck he jumped out of only a few hours ago. He watched as they scoured the bridge, searching for the bomb that was put there for the purpose of luring them to their deaths. He watched as Beck discovered the bomb a little while later, as Silena pulled Annabeth aside for a muted conversation, as the tips of Annabeth's ears turned a bright red.

She does that when she's embarrassed or uncomfortable, Percy noted internally, his heart slowing in its frantic pattern as he thought about the daughter of Athena. He wondered why she was embarrassed or uncomfortable, until a shout stole his attention away.

He watched as Annabeth and Silena rushed to comfort Grover, only to discover with them that the bomb was activated.

"You bastard!" Percy shouted, walking towards the titan standing near him with a deadly smirk on his borrowed lips. He swung his fist back, ready to ruin Kronos's temporary face. "Deactivate that bomb! They didn't do anything to you!"

Percy foolishly went to follow through with the punch, only to find time moving slowly. He moved in slow-motion, watching his fist swinging as if he were in a movie and the film crawled for the epic fight scene.

But this was no movie. If it was, maybe it would have a happy ending.

Suddenly, time returned to normal, causing Percy to stumble forwards. He whirled around to find Kronos standing behind him now, the smirk like a lethal dagger. He paused, eying the titan warily of another trick.

"I didn't arm the bomb, Perseus," the titan said, seeing the hatred in the hero's eyes. "The son of Hephaestus armed it himself when he tripped the wire, so to speak."

"Even if you didn't arm it, you can still deactivate it!" Percy growled. "Don't try to tell me that you don't have a way to deactivate it. I'm willing to bet that the controller is on your being at this exact moment!"

The smirk morphing into a cruel smile, Kronos pulled a small, silver box from his left jacket pocket. It was about the size of a deck of cards, with three large buttons on the front. The one at the top was red, like the top of a traffic light. The one at the bottom was green, which only furthered the pattern. But the one in the middle was a midnight black.

"You're clever, Perseus," Kronos said, golden eyes examining the silver box. "More clever than anyone ever gives you credit for." His shining eyes stared at the son of Poseidon with undisguised curiosity. "Do you know what this is?"

Percy eyed it for a moment, glinting dangerously in the green light of the room. "It's the activation box, isn't it?" It was a question, but he said it as a statement.

The titan of time let his smile widen. "This top button," he explained, fingering the red button, "deactivates the bomb. This green one makes it go off."

"And the black one?" Percy asked when Kronos made no move to explain, the curiosity getting to him.

Kronos grinned maliciously, loving the willing participation in this conversation. "This one... Well, this black one is a surprise. Let's save it for later, shall we? Now watch, it's almost the best part of the movie!"

Unwillingly, Percy's green eyes shot back to the giant TV screen. Beck worked fruitlessly to disarm the bomb, Silena hanging off his arm with her head of dark hair resting on his shoulder. Annabeth stood near Grover, her arms crossed as the satyr stood by, wringing his arms in obvious fear. The timer read ten seconds.

"If any of us survive this by some miracle, tell Percy that I'm sorry, okay?" Annabeth said with only eight seconds left, her beautiful gray eyes darting around to each of the others. Percy had to swallow back a sob. She never had anything to be sorry for, much less this. He was the one that should be sorry. What was he doing to save them? Nothing.

In his despair, he forgot that he should be getting that box from Kronos.

And he completely forgot about the son of Hermes standing pale-faced against the wall.

The time was ticking down, and all Percy could do was watch in terror as his two best friends faced their death with two other people he held close to his heart. That heart broke as, with only three seconds left, Beck swallowed the lump in his throat to whisper, "I'm sorry."

There was only one second left.

Then Percy's world exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	5. Chapter 5

Third Person POV

There was only one second left.

Then Percy's world exploded.

Through a sudden ringing in his ears, Percy could make out the hints of bellowing, jovial laughter.

"You should see your face!" Kronos cackled, hands clutching his stomach. If he were able of crying, tears of laughter would've flowed down his tanned cheeks. As it was, he was a heartless bastard that only wanted to watch the world burn. Percy didn't believe him capable of creating tears, even if Ethan's body was.

Percy wanted to feel rage. He wanted to feel sorrow. He wanted to feel a desire for revenge that was so strong, it would rip through his body and form its own tangible form. But all he felt was numb.

In time, he knew that the rage and the sorrow and the unquestionable desire for revenge would come. For now, it seemed to be saving itself, biding its time so it could come in full force at once.

"You... You killed them," Percy heard himself say in a faint voice. His voice sounded so very far away, as if he was playing a stupid game of telephone in kindergarten, with two cans attached to a string. Or maybe he was standing at one end of a really long tunnel, listening to his voice bounce away, only to return as a distorted echo.

Maybe he was drowning and he was listening to his last bubbles of air pop on the surface of the water. Suddenly, he found himself short of air. Gasping, the son of Poseidon fought to control his breathing, trying to concentrate on getting more than a gulp of foul-smelling air into his protesting lungs. He needed air. Where was the air? It couldn't have flown south for the winter. It was summer, and that was absurd.

Throughout all this, Kronos continued his laughter. Even as Percy fell to his knees, hands desperately clutching his chest as his lungs shrunk, the titan laughed. Suspiciously enough, as he grabbed his chest in a final, desperate hope to gather air into his body and alleviate this pain, he felt something breaking. Distantly, he wondered if it was finally his heart, snapping in two. Or maybe he was just having a heart attack and Kronos's plan to use him would be foiled. Wouldn't that be a fun twist of events? The war would be over for him before it even truly started.

Somehow, Percy found enough sense in his body to listen to Kronos's next words, even as he wanted to keel over and die. "Silly demigod," he said, sounding like the children in the cereal commercial with a rabbit. What was that cereal again? Annabeth liked it.

Annabeth. Gods, how had he let her down? He could've saved her. He should've saved her. How could he live with himself now, knowing her blood was on his hands? Gods...

Oblivious to his inner monologue, Kronos continued indifferently. "I didn't kill them."

"You... What?"

And suddenly, Percy found himself able to breathe again. His gasping for air started anew, his lungs re-inflating as he reveled in the sense of not dying. That was one of his favorite hobbies, you know. Not dying. Everyone should give it a try.

Kronos rolled his eyes. "Of course I didn't kill them. They're no use to me if they're dead."

"They're no use to Camp Half Blood if they're dead, either," Percy stated, feeling his heart slowly stitching itself back together with thin threads of hope. His sea green eyes remained locked on the television screen, hoping that the fog would clear any second now and he'd catch a glimpse of stormy gray eyes or golden princess curls or even just a bright orange camp shirt. But the explosion kept the camera fogged up, obscuring his vision.

He wanted to smash the screen in. He only just barely restrained himself.

"That's true," Kronos admitted. "They might go back to Camp Half Blood and their sole involvement could be what wins the war for the demigods." He grinned then, and a shiver ran up Percy's spine. "But if I kill them, they can't be leverage."

"Leverage?" It seemed that the only thing he could do was repeat the titan's words. He tried to think up something more intelligent, maybe even question the titan's intelligence, but any idea fell flat. The feeling of elation at realizing everyone is alive still consumed him.

But the titan didn't seem to care that his words were just repeated back at him in question form. He nodded seriously, the only thing betraying his expression being the small, stubborn smirk planted on his face. "Yes. You see, the dead just aren't good bargaining chips. There's nothing to threaten them with, since they're already dead. For a Seaweed Brain, even you must understand that."

A growl welled up in Percy's throat at the mention of his nickname. "Don't you dare call me that," he hissed, a deadly frown marring his features. Kronos grinned.

"See! There it is. The simplest mention of a loved one will send a person into a fit. They're better use to me alive, in this way. Especially the daughter of Athena." Kronos whistled. "And she is fantastic looking. Perhaps, should she survive the war, I'll keep her for myself. Rhea refuses to join the fight, so I must find other ways to... Amuse myself."

"Don't even think of it," Percy warned, his eyes appearing to glow in the eerie lighting of the unfurnished room. Kronos stared for a moment, before he chuckled.

"It's too late, Perseus. I've already thought of it!"

Percy stared the titan down, green eyes flashing with the rage that was boiling inside of him for the last few minutes of their conversation. Then, without warning, he pounced forwards in an attempt to attack the titan.

Just like before, time slowed. Kronos moved himself safely out of the way before letting the enraged son of Poseidon crash into the ground. He had the insensitivity to shake his head in mock-disappointment.

"You must hone your energy, Perseus! You'll never get anything done using it in small spurts of power like you currently are. That's a fool's game you're playing, and you're losing. Should I mention that you're also the fool?"

The words were almost enough to send the son of Poseidon into another fitful rage. But, just as he was about to leap at the titan's throat with his arms outstretched, an image of gray eyes flashed through his mind. Taking a deep breath, he forced his hands to relax.

Once he believed himself calm (enough), Percy said, "What do you want, Kronos?"

The titan of time opened his mouth to explain, but a flicker of movement on the television screen caught his eye. His golden eyes widened with glee, shooting Percy a cruelly joyful smile. "The camera is back on! Let's see what the bomb did, shall we?"

 

It came as a surprise for all four half-bloods to awake on the sandy ground near the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. Annabeth came to slowly, her gray eyes creaking open not to a vision of shades and endlessly long lines, like she expected, but to the summer-blue sky of a cloudless New York. She took a moment to wonder what happened, scouring her memory for a hint of the past. What got her to this mess?

And was that sand in her hair? Don't tell her that she and Percy fell asleep at the beach again. The Aphrodite campers were starting to get suspicious. Every time she and Percy walked past the cabin, the blinds snapped shut, only to fling open once they walked out of range.

They might seem like Barbie dolls playing dress up, but Annabeth swore that they could've been the real force behind any assassination in history, from Julius Caesar to Archduke Franz Ferdinand to John F. Kennedy. There was something creepy about how they always knew when it was just her and Percy alone.

Warily, Annabeth carefully sat herself up. The wind whistled in her ears, stronger than the pleasant breeze that curled off the waves at the camp beach and flitted through the borders of Camp Half Blood. The ocean pounded its waves on the shore nearby, but the sound was harsher than the one she was used to at camp.

This wasn't camp. There was something that the waves kept knocking into, a barrier in the water. Where was she?

Annabeth cringed slightly as her body reached an angle of about 145 degrees. Her back ached suddenly, her head throbbed. Cautiously, she lifted a hand up to feel the back of head, where the skin tingled in pain. The pads of her fingers came away with a light dusting of red. Not enough to be life-threatening, but enough to ensure she would be visiting the infirmary when they got back to camp.

For now, she needed to figure what happened and why she wasn't dead.

Annabeth finished sitting up, her body making a right angle, when a groan coming from her right drew her attention. Her gray eyes flickered over to the fidgeting figure of the satyr that saved her nearly ten years ago. He looked fine, despite his face being unusually pale. She figured it was because of the situation, not personal injury.

Just as she realized Grover was here with her, Annabeth remembered that there were two others. Her eyes scoured the area, first landing on a burly boy, then spotting the dark-haired girl curled up in his arms. Annabeth doubted Beck and Silena were awake and had purposefully collapsed in each other's arms. It seemed to happen naturally with them.

She wished she knew how that happened. Maybe she should ask Silena for advice.

Advice.

She was asking Silena for advice! And... And Beck interrupted them because the timer on the bomb started counting down. The bomb! Beck hadn't been able to disarm it and...

It exploded. They should all be dead now.

Wincing as she jostled her body more than it desired, Annabeth crawled over to the moaning figure of Grover, who muttered something about food (as usual). Her hand shook his shoulder for a moment before she was finally able to rip his consciousness from the depths of sleep. His brown eyes flew open, staring first at the sky before lying on his blonde friend.

"Annabeth?" he asked, brow furrowed in confusion. "What am I doing in the Underworld? Satyrs are supposed to return to nature when we die."

Annabeth shook her head slowly, trying not to aggravate her bleeding skull. "We aren't dead. We're still at the Brooklyn Bridge." She gestured to the architectural marvel looming over them, a deep frown settled on her face. "The bomb didn't kill us."

"And the bridge is still here," Grover noticed with a frown similar to Annabeth's, if not identical. "What was the purpose of the bomb if it didn't kill us or destroy the bridge?"

 

Percy turned to the titan standing next to him. He looked up into Ethan's face, frowning in confusion. Lines appeared in his forehead, swallowing the spooky green light in shadows. Kronos didn't bother glancing at the demigod, too absorbed was he in what was unfolding in front of him on the television. "Grover has a point," Percy said, glancing back at the screen to watch Annabeth wake up Beck and Silena. "What was the purpose of the bomb?"

Kronos slowly turned away from the screen to face the son of Poseidon. An eerie grin splitting his golden-eyed face in two, he answered, "The purpose of the bomb wasn't to kill them or blow up the bridge. I thought we already went over this! And here I had such great hopes for you."

"But what was the purpose of the bomb, if not to kill people or destroy the bridge?"

The grin Kronos wore widened, taking on a maniacal glow in the green lighting. "The purpose of the bomb was to get you to work for me, Perseus Jackson. Now, if you don't do exactly as I say, your friends will die."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry!! It's a short chapter, I know, but my computer is being weird and I forgot I had finals this past week and next week! But next chapter will make up for it, promise. Expect that one to be out early next weekend, so I can finish up my finals! Thanks!! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter, as promised! Expect the next update to be about mid-week next week! :)

Third Person POV

The grin Kronos wore widened, taking on a maniacal glow in the green lighting. "The purpose of the bomb was to get you to work for me, Perseus Jackson. Now, if you don't do exactly as I say, your friends will die."

There was a moment of tense silence as the evil titan stared down the demigod. From the back, Luke watched with wide blue eyes as Percy blinked rapidly in apparent disbelief before he opened his mouth to deliver what would likely be the well thought-out statement of a feared general.

"Is it just me, or does that sound like a load of bullshit?"

Or maybe it wouldn't be as well thought-out as Luke hoped it would be. In retrospect, he should've probably seen that coming.

The golden eyes of the titan stared at the demigod without emotion, eyelids flapping up and down as he blinked quickly, as if trying to dispel the image of this demigod challenging his masterplan. Just who did he think he was?

When it became apparent that the son of Poseidon wasn't joking around as Kronos hoped he was (hoped for the demigod, not for himself), he smirked slightly. "I do enjoy a good challenge every now and then, silly boy. But I do mean every word I'm saying. If you refuse to obey me, your friends will suffer the pain of a thousand tiny bugs ripping them apart before I mercifully allow them to succumb to death."

Percy shot a glance at the still-pale-faced son of Hermes against the back wall. The blonde shook his head slowly, gravely, but Percy wasn't sure how to interpret that or whether he even wanted to listen to Luke's advice in the first place. That son of a bitch tried to kill him a few years back, and he's been trying ever since! How did he know this wasn't just a ploy to kill him again? The green lighting in this place certainly set the atmosphere for a ritualistic summoning tied in with a human sacrifice.

Sighing, Percy made up his mind. "Look, Kronos, we both know what you're trying to do here."

The titan raised an eyebrow. "We do? Because I don't think we're on the same page at all. I believe I'm still a few chapters ahead of you."

"Nope, we both know what's going to happen," Percy countered stubbornly, eyes narrowed slightly but his face otherwise appearing bored. "You drugged me, brought me here, and then threatened my friends. Now, you're saying you want me to obey you, but I know what you really want. You're just going to kill me the minute you leave and I try to escape. My friends aren't in any danger. That bomb didn't do anything. And you're not going to end up killing me, no matter how 'genius' you think your plan is."

Kronos stared for a moment at the demigod crossing his arms smugly. Then he threw his head back in laughter. "Kill you?" He managed through spurts of cackling. "Why would I kill you when you're the key to the prophecy?"

"Prophecy?" Percy frowned.

"Oh, you don't know, do you?" Kronos asked, suddenly gleeful. "My, your precious gods haven't told you anything!"

"What prophecy are you talking about? If it's the one for this mission, don't bother. We didn't have one, cause it wasn't a quest."

The titan shook his head, mirth radiating from his body. "No, there was no prophecy for your mission. But there is one for your life."

Percy paused, not expecting that. Slowly, cautiously, he murmured to himself, "My life?"

"There was a prophecy years ago, after the Second World War, fought between the child of the Big Three. The Big Three decided not to sire any more children so the prophecy wouldn't come true. It spelled the doom of the child, the gods, Olympus, and the world." As he spoke, Kronos watched the color bleed from Percy's face. "Would you like to hear it?"

Without waiting for a reply, he recited:

"A half-blood of the eldest gods, shall reach sixteen against all odds, and see the world in endless sleep, the hero's soul cursed blade shall reap, a single choice shall end his days, Olympus to preserve or raze."

Percy waited a moment, absorbing all the words, before he dared to speak again. "What the hell does that mean?"

Kronos allowed a small chuckle to pass through his lips. "It means that you, Perseus Jackson, are going to work for me. And you are going to help me ensure that Olympus is not preserved."

An image of Percy's reoccurring nightmare flashed through his mind. The city on fire, the buildings crumbling. He could almost hear the screams of the innocents ringing in his ears over the sound of Kronos laughing. But those insidious golden eyes were replaced by sea green, pale skin glowing to tan. Through it all, he kept laughing.

Quickly, Percy shook his head in a failed attempt to dispel the image. But even as his eyes refocused on the titan in front of him, he could still hear his own laughter mingling with that of Kronos. It sent shivers up his spine and through his mind, but he tried to go back to the topic at hand.

"Like hell I'd ever work for you, much less help you destroy Olympus," Percy spit, sounding a lot braver than he felt. What trick could the titan have up his sleeve? What could he be planning that would still be able to hurt his friends? Whatever it was, he knew they could handle it. They hadn't survived this long as demigods just because their parents jumped in to save them. (Which never happened at all, so it should be considered a miracle they're alive. But that though wasn't helping Percy fight his fear.)

Kronos had the nerve to smirk. "You say that now, but wait until you see the little gift I gave your friends. I think that might make you change your mind." The small box from before was back in Kronos's hand, the three buttons glowing softly in the eerie lighting of the room. His thumb hovered over the black button nestled in the middle of the silver box, caressing it gently like he would with a purring cat. Percy's eyes locked on the wiggling digit, anxiety pooling in his stomach.

What did the black button do?

Kronos looked up to meet Percy's eyes, the smirk stubbornly remaining on his lips. "If I were you, I'd watch the TV screen." That was the only warning he gave before he pushed the midnight black button.

 

It took only a few minutes for Annabeth to have everyone sitting up, fully conscious despite all their reluctance. Silena hadn't wanted to let go of Beck when she clung to unconsciousness, but even with a few minutes for gather her bearings, she still clutched his arm like it was her lifeline. Beck didn't seem to mind; either that, or he just ignored that borderline-aggressive possession his girlfriend had of his limb. Grover looked like a half-drowned kitten, his eyes slipping closed as he groaned about wanting to sleep. A crown of sand adorned his head, sticking to the right side of his head like a stubborn barnacle to the side of a boat.

"We need to get back to Camp Half Blood," Annabeth urged once they were all somewhat responsive. She tried to betray the urgency through her eyes, but she doubted any of them really noticed or cared.

"I'm tired," Grover grumbled dazedly, planting his elbows in the warm sand and slowly sinking back until he was nearly laying down again. Annabeth hurried over and grabbed him under the armpits, hoisting him back into a seated position. The satyr leaned forwards, resting his forehead on his knees and starting to doze off. Annabeth smacked him upside the head, but it did little to help.

"Come on, we need to get back to the truck," Annabeth repeated, looking around at the others. She tried to meet Silena's eyes, but the daughter of Aphrodite had her face buried into the skin of Beck's biceps. Grover was falling asleep against his knees, so Annabeth looked at Beck. The son of Hephaestus locked eyes with her. Trying to prove the need to leave through logic, Annabeth said, "The bomb did nothing to destabilize the bridge." She glanced at the leg of the bridge it had been placed on. "It didn't even knock down that leg. Obviously, there has to be another somewhere. That can't be the whole plan. Even Kronos isn't that stupid."

The son of Hephaestus nodded slowly, a thin river of blood trickling down the left side of his face from when he flew backwards and hit his face against a rock, protecting Silena. "You're right, Annabeth." He attempted to struggle to his feet. "We need to get back to Camp. I bet Percy figured we were done already and went back to camp instead of trying to meet us here. Otherwise he would've gotten here ages ago."

Annabeth felt a jolt, realizing that Beck was right. Percy hadn't shown up yet. And even facing a giant wouldn't have taken him this long. But Beck was also right. Percy probably just went back to camp, thinking they were done with the mission.

She wanted so desperately to believe that. So why was there a tiny voice in the back of her head, a pit in her stomach, that told her there was something else at work here?

Annabeth forced aside that doubt. She was the leader and she needed to act more like it. "All the more reason we should head back to camp. I don't want to see what else Kronos is planning here, and since we don't have any idea what it might be, we're better off leaving and trying to stop the repercussions. If this bomb didn't do anything, there must be another plan at work here. The least we can do is save ourselves and plan another attack."

The son of Hephaestus nodded gravely, which caused the daughter of Aphrodite to look up and nod as well. If Beck agreed, then so did she. Grover muttered something under his breath, which sounded suspiciously about Percy and food, but Annabeth took that as his consent as well. She heaved herself from the place she had been sitting on the warm sand, grabbing Grover and pulling him to his feet, shocking him out of his dreams. The satyr yawned as Beck helped Silena stand.

The four friends had started walking towards Beck's rusty truck when Grover collapsed to the ground with a startled yelp. Annabeth, who was walking beside him, froze, falling to her knees beside one of her oldest friends. "Grover? What's wrong?"

The satyr's brown eyes were clenched shut, his teeth grinding together as he fought to stop himself from screaming. His tanned skin glowed faintly, the orange aura flitting around underneath his skin like an unearthly mirage. Annabeth placed a hand on his glowing forehead, feeling for an unnatural heat. But physically, he felt and looked fine.

"Grover, can you hear me?" Annabeth asked desperately, watching as her friend started to convulse in the sand. "Grover!"

There was the thud of a body hitting the sand behind her, followed by a second thud a moment after. Annabeth twirled around, still kneeling in the warm sand, to see Beck and Silena in the same state as Grover, collapsed and shaking on the ground with their skin giving off an orange glow like someone out of Iron Man 3.

Percy would understand that reference. He smuggled that movie into camp one summer, just so Annabeth could see it. He knew that Tony Stark was her favorite Avenger, for his brains and his engineering talent. But why was she thinking about this now? Stupid girl! Her friends might be dying and she can only think about Percy like some dumbstruck little-

Annabeth stopped in the middle of her thought. She blinked owlishly, momentarily paralyzed as pain- white hot, burning, inescapable pain- coursed through her body. Then she toppled over, between Grover and the two lovebirds, her blonde hair spread about her convulsing head like a halo.

 

Percy watched the TV screen, horror etched across his face. It only grew when he saw Annabeth fall to the ground, the last being able to remain conscious faced with the cruelty of Kronos. As his best friend started shaking, her skin glowing orange, he turned to face Kronos. His green eyes lacked the same determined fire as before, now staring at the titan in barely disguised hatred and nausea.

"What did you do to them?" Percy hissed, eyes narrowing. He fought back a wave of tears that suddenly threatened to overtake him whenever he thought about Annabeth.

She'll be fine. He won't let anything happen to her. He can't. She's his best friend and he would die to protect her. He would die to protect any of them.

Kronos had the audacity to smirk at the enraged son of Poseidon. "I didn't do anything to them," he countered, "at least not personally. It was the bomb! That son of Hephaestus really should've figured out how to disarm it faster. Had he taken it off the leg of the bridge, he would've found an off switch on the back." The titan shrugged indifferently. "This just cements my belief that you demigods live to suffer. Isn't that right, Luke?"

Against the back wall, the pale son of Hermes nodded hesitantly. He didn't attempt to speak.

Percy glanced at Luke quickly before shooting his eyes back to Kronos. "Then tell me what the bomb did, you son of a bitch," he growled. It probably wasn't in his best interest (or that of his friends) to antagonize the titan currently tormenting his friends from afar, but Percy wasn't known for his amazing self-preservation skills.

"That wasn't very nice." Kronos pouted, faking a look of hurt. Percy's glare intensified and the pout melted away with a roll of golden eyes. "Fine. You're no fun.

"When that bomb went off due to the failures of the son of Hephaestus to be as good an engineer as his father, it set in place a series of actions. It sent out small, robotic particles through the air, which we call nanobugs. These nanobugs are programmed to inhabit a life form nearby, like a parasite, and spread through the host's entire body. Then, when I push this button," Kronos said, fingering the black button on the controller without pressing it, "the nanobugs attack."

"Attack?" Percy repeated in trepidation.

Kronos nodded, a sadistic smile on his lips. "Yes, attack. They latch onto any internal organ accessible, and they release a series of electric shocks that only increase in strength and frequency as time goes on. At first, it's only enough to cause severe pain, but as time goes on, the person begins to die. The electric shocks appear orange through the skin, because of the light filtering through the veins of blood in the host. The more orange someone is looking, the closer they are to death."

Swallowing hard, Percy's eyes shot over to the TV screen. Suddenly, the orange glow coming from his friends meant so much more than just a signal for their pain. It was a signal for their death. And Grover was nearly entirely orange.

"You can't just kill them!" Percy protested, forcibly tearing his gaze away from the screen. He tried to look angry, furious, murderous, as he stared down Kronos, but he feared he came off as a desperate, scared, little boy.

Kronos laughed. Obviously, he saw the latter when he looked at the "powerful" son of Poseidon. If he was powerful, then why couldn't he do anything? "You don't think I won't kill them?" Kronos taunted, smirking all the while. "Just watch."

Frantically, Percy turned away to think of something, anything, to save his friends. He couldn't just let them die! He wouldn't let more deaths be added to the toll. He wouldn't let their blood drip from his hands as well. But what could he do? There was no way to get that controller from Kronos, not without him killing Percy and his friends in one fell swoop. Sure, he wanted to keep the son of Poseidon alive, but if he attacked, the titan would defend.

Wait... He wants to keep Percy alive. He wants Percy to work for him. Maybe...

No! What would Annabeth think if she could see him now? Deciding whether or not he would work with the enemy? Kronos wanted to destroy Olympus, kill the demigods. Kill his friends. He couldn't let him do that.

But by not working with Kronos now, wasn't he still allowing him to kill his friends?

Percy was trapped against a wall, fighting hard to escape. But there seemed to be no choice.

Kronos watched the demigod debate internally, the smirk never leaving Ethan's face. Finally, when the confusion in Percy's sea green eyes started to still, he asked the fated question. "Will you work with me against Olympus?"

Slowly, Percy lifted his head and locked eyes with Kronos through dark, messy bangs. "As long as you don't hurt my friends."

The smirk started to morph into a grin that stank of a smug victory. "I swear it on the Styx." He gestured for Percy to do the same.

After a moment of hesitation, the son of Poseidon echoed the titan of time. "I swear it on the Styx." Immediately, Kronos pressed the black button on the control box, turning off the nanobugs a moment before the four beings at the Brooklyn Bridge would've died. Percy let out a sigh of relief. Annabeth would be so ashamed, but he'd rather she be mad at him than dead because of him.

Smirk returning as he watched Percy hang his head in defeat, the titan announced, "Perseus Jackson, welcome to the ranks of my army. You'll serve me well here." He narrowed his golden eyes. "Or else everyone you love will die."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As soon people have seen, the plot is based on two Teen Titans episodes (12 and 13 of Season 1, entitled "Apprentice"). I thought I would share it with everyone else! :) Expect another update this weekend! :) Thanks!

Third Person POV

Smirk returning as he watched Percy hang his head in defeat, the titan announced, "Perseus Jackson, welcome to the ranks of my army. You'll serve me well here." He narrowed his golden eyes. "Or else everyone you love will die."

 

Once again, Annabeth Chase found herself waking up on the warm sand near the Brooklyn Bridge. She groaned, her body aching more than it had before... Whatever just happened. What did just happen? Carefully, she sat herself up, her hand shaking minutely as she brought it up to rub at her temple.

The sand shifted to her right, the tiny grains cascading down and sprinkling over her jean shorts like jimmies on an ice cream cone. Slowly, so as not to hurt her smarting body further, Annabeth looked around herself.

To the girl's right, a boy with curly brown hair and horns lay on the ground, shuffling around in the sand as if he were trying to forcibly wake himself from an unpleasant dream. Through the bleary haze of her mind, it took Annabeth a moment to identify him as Grover Underwood, one of her oldest and best friends.

That's right, she remarked internally. Grover was here. We were doing something... Something with the Brooklyn Bridge...

It came back to her in a flash. The bomb. Right. But that already blew up, right? And she was able to get up and walk without feeling too much pain. So why was she back on the ground, the very air around her leaving her skin stinging?

There was a soft grumbling on Annabeth's left. Still taking more care than absolutely necessary, she turned to see who else was here on this little stretch of land.

A burly African-American boy with dark hair lays on his side, his back to Annabeth. Charles Beckendorf. Gathered protectively in his thick arms, as if to shelter her from the world, Annabeth caught a glimpse of a fair-skinned, dark-haired princess. No, this wasn't a Disney princess though. This was Silena Beauregard.

Neither of them appeared to be conscious, despite the soft snores escaping Beck's lips. Had they all decided to take a nap or something? Annabeth couldn't remember. She remembered Grover falling to the ground, herself kneeling by his side... But that was it. She couldn't remember what happened to Grover or what eventually happened to the rest of them that would leave them napping out in the open on the sands by the Brooklyn Bridge. That worried her. If she couldn't remember, then maybe none of them could. And that meant that whatever happened might happen again.

Annabeth dragged a heavy hand across her closed eyes, attempting to scrub away her despair as well as the fear eating her up inside. She might not be able to remember what just happened, but she did remember one thing. Percy never showed up.

No, bad Annabeth! Stop it. You already agreed with Beck. Didn't he suggest that Percy figured they were already done and went back to camp? He's just back at camp. The fact that he didn't already meet up with you guys means nothing, because it is nothing. He's back at camp, probably wondering why you guys aren't back yet. And you're keeping him worried? What kind of friends are you four?

Annabeth silenced the annoying voice in her head that screamed the things she needed to hear as much as she hated them. Loathe as she was to admit it, the stupid voice was probably right. Percy was probably waiting for them! They needed to let him know they were alright. He had this nasty habit of always blaming himself for every single thing that went wrong, even when he clearly had no influence. She didn't want to know what he was thinking right then, most likely sitting in his cabin alone and waiting for them to return. Hoping they would return.

They needed to get back to Camp Half Blood before Percy started deciding that he would've been better off going alone and not risking their lives. Annabeth didn't want to know what that kind of mindset would lead him to do in the future. She didn't want to know what kind of horrible mistakes it would cause.

Cautiously, Annabeth stood up in the sand, feeling for any major injuries or pain that would indicate exactly what she did to herself. But aside from a slight increase in the soreness of her body, nothing changed. As far as she could see, there were no major wounds and she looked physically fine. Ignoring it for now, seeing as how there was nothing she could do with her limited knowledge of first aid, especially without a wound, Annabeth started to make her way towards the truck.

In a few minutes, Annabeth had the rusty old vehicle running, the engine coughing occasionally like an elderly person that once smoked too many cigars in their youth. She waited a minute, able to watch her friends from the driver's seat of the truck. Were they going to hear the truck's engine and get up? Grover, she doubted, but Beck wouldn't be able to ignore the call of his "baby", right?

Wrong.

The son of Hephaestus didn't rise. None of them so much as stirred. Grover's pathetic thrashing in the sand had long since ceased, the satyr content to wallow in whatever dream he was experiencing.

Annabeth wasn't content with allowing that, though.

Sighing to herself and rolling her eyes, Annabeth wondered if she should really do what she was about to do. Surely there had to be a better way to go about this. And there was, she knew there was. But this way was much more efficient. And, quite frankly, fun. She deserved to exact a little bit of revenge every now and then. Grover and Beck didn't want her to go after Percy when he faced off with the giant. Fine.

She punched the middle of the steering wheel, the horn blaring.

This certainly had no connection to that earlier... Incident. Nope. Nothing to do with them abandoning the son of Poseidon in the middle of Long Island.

Not at all.

Shouts of protest echoed from the sand, where three individuals were startled awake. Grover jumped wildly, leaping from the ground in a shower of grains of sand, nearly landing on Beck's lap as the son of Hephaestus bolted upright. Silena remained in his arms, held even more protectively than a moment ago, to guard her from the new threat.

They were all so wired, looking around frantically for whatever woke them up so abruptly, that none of them noticed that Annabeth was gone. Well, at least not until she beeped the horn again and their eyes darted to the truck like moths to a flame.

Beck, unsurprisingly, was the first person to stand up and walk over to the daughter of Athena in the rusted truck. Of course, Annabeth expected that; she certainly didn't think he would allow her to sit in the driver's seat of his precious vehicle once he was awake.

"What happened?" the son of Hephaestus said as soon as he was within speaking distance.

"Good morning to you too, Beck."

"It's not morning," he deadpanned, "and that doesn't answer my question. Why were we all laying on the ground? What happened? I don't... I don't remember what happened."

Annabeth sighed, stepping out of the truck. "I don't remember either," she admitted honestly. "I was kind of hoping you guys would wake up and be able to tell me what happened. I woke up a minute ago, and decided that we really need to get back to Camp Half Blood. Hence the part about me waking you all up."

"And we greatly appreciated that," Beck said dryly. Then he frowned. "But none of us remember what happened?"

The daughter of Athena shrugged. "I can only speak for myself when I say that the last thing I remember is Grover falling to the ground. I don't even know why he fell!"

Beck's frown deepened. "Maybe Chiron will have an answer." He nodded to Annabeth, then turned around to gather Silena and Grover towards the truck. Annabeth watched him go, her own frown settled on her face. "I hope so," she murmured lowly.

 

Unlike with a normal quest, there was a group of people waiting for them at the base of Thalia's pine tree when they got back to Camp Half Blood. Beck had driven them to his garage, where he parked the truck. Then they made the trek back to camp, much to everyone's disappointment. It wasn't bad traveling the first time (unless you were Percy, who complained the whole way to the garage), but going from the garage to camp seemed like twice the distance.

Or maybe they were just tired and confused. That does wonders to lengthen a journey.

When the four strode (read: struggled) past the camp borders, they were greeted by a small gathering of campers. It looked like it was comprised mostly of cabin leaders, like Clarisse from the Ares cabin, who stood in the front. (She couldn't bear standing in the back; something about how it was against her nature and offensive to her father. Since then, no one made her stand in the back. No one wants to cross Ares, god of war.)

What came as an immediate surprise, though, was that Travis Stoll was among those gathered near Thalia's Tree.

The son of Hermes was seated in a wheelchair, flanked by his brother on one side and Katie Gardner on the other. Travis frowned, his arms crossed, as he rolled his blue eyes at something Connor said. It was Katie that got his attention by tapping his shoulder and pointing towards the group shuffling towards them. The son of Hermes made a crazy, eccentric hand motion, causing the daughter of Demeter to slowly wheel him closer to the four remaining questers.

Annabeth spoke up as soon as they were within ear shot of the eager son of Hermes, as well as his posse. "Travis, what are you doing out of the infirmary?" She sounded like a mother scolding an unruly, misbehaving child.

The son of Hermes smiled cheekily, a stark contrast to his energy when he first arrived at the camp border earlier that same day. "You know what's funny? Katie asked me the same thing!"

"I told him to stay in the infirmary," Katie explained when she saw the questioning looks thrown her way, her face slightly red. "Then, he said, 'Don't tell me how to live my life', so we compromised."

"He has to stay in the wheelchair," Connor clarified when it was clear that neither his brother nor his brother's 'secret' love interest would answer. "Otherwise Katie's sending him back to the infirmary." A slow smirk made its way into his face. "I think she might've said 'And if they find a bump on the back of your head and you're unconscious, well, that only makes my point!'"

Everyone stared at the daughter of Demeter, who blushed bright red and looked down at her feet. She didn't try to refute it though.

Annabeth cleared her throat to get the attention off the poor girl, whose ears looked nearly ready to burst into flame with how red they were getting from the attention. She looked at the trio, then at the group of quietly conversing demigods behind them. "Why are there so many people out here?"

"We wanted to know how the mission went," Travis answered automatically, before anyone else could open their mouths. "Since it wasn't a quest, we knew when it would end, at the earliest. Besides, it's not every day that the Brooklyn Bridge is threatened by a bomb controlled by an evil, scheming titan and his lackeys."

"Don't start getting any ideas," Beck warned, his voice teasing.

Travis and Connor winked at him simultaneously, which only served to unnerve the son of Hephaestus. "We would never," Connor promised, looking and sounding a lot more like himself now that Travis was back and plotting pranks with him.

"At least not something of that magnitude," Travis amended. "That's far too malicious for us. We're just two kindhearted, easy-going sons of Hermes. We occasionally partake in a harmless, hilarious prank, but never-"

Katie interrupted. "A 'harmless, hilarious prank'?" She repeated, her voice containing a barely-controlled anger. "Does that include when you two idiots replaced all the flowers in my garden with beehives and all the carrots with snakes?"

"They were garden snakes!" Connor cried, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

"Completely harmless!" Travis agreed, defending himself and his brother. "Besides, we gave the plants back later!"

"No you didn't!"

There was a pause. "Oh," Travis said. "Well, we meant to give them back!"

Seeing this quickly escalating out of control, Annabeth jumped in and no doubt saved Travis and Connor's lives. Katie had a murderous glint in her brown eyes. "How long have you guys been out here waiting for us to get back?"

This question successfully defused some of the angry tensions in the air, though Katie kept glancing at the sons of Hermes with a deep frown. Nonetheless, she answered, "Not very long. Maybe an hour or so? We weren't quite sure how you were getting there and back, since Chiron has been avoiding everyone since you guys left."

Grover frowned, brow furrowing in confusion. "What? Why?"

Connor shrugged. "No one knows. We were all kind of hoping one of you would be able to talk to him once you got back, make him at least confess what's wrong."

Annabeth wore a frown nearly identical to that of Grover. "Yeah, I'll have to talk to him once we get cleaned up a little," she said, self-consciously brushing some of the more stubborn particles of sand out of her hair.

"So, how did the mission go?" Travis asked after a brief lull in conversation. "I'd say it went well, since most of you came back, but I'd still like to hear it from one of you."

Annabeth was still processing Travis's words when Beck responded. "Well, the bomb blew up, but it didn't do any damage at all! Which in itself was weird. It didn't take us long to find it, because it was placed on a leg of the Brooklyn Bridge- had he wanted real damage done, Kronos would've put it much higher up, I think. But it was so low, I was able to reach it from the ground, not even on the water yet. But then I tried to disarm it, and it wouldn't shut off. We thought we were going to die, but all it really did was knock us off our feet. There was no real structural damage to the bridge, so I suppose the mission was a success, looking at it like that."

The conversation continued, with Beck answering most of the questions concerning the outcome of the mission (the type of bomb, its properties, his beliefs about why it didn't do damage, etc). But Annabeth wasn't a part of anymore. Her mind kept replaying Travis's words: "Most of you came back."

No, they all came back! Sure, four of them came back together, but Percy was already in the camp, right? Because he was just battling a giant, and he could more than handle a giant. Besides, they didn't see his corpse on the way back from the bridge, meaning he must've survived the fight. Did Travis not see him come back to camp, then? They'd only been outside for about an hour; maybe Percy came back before then and went to his cabin for a quick nap! Yes, that must be it.

But even as she justified it in her mind, she knew she needed proof.

"What did you mean when you said that most of us came back?" Annabeth asked, interrupting Beck in the middle of another explanation. Her gray eyes were locked on Travis's blue.

She felt the others start behind her; none of them had been paying that close of attention to the words said by the son of Hermes. For a long moment, no one moved, waiting to hear what he had to say now.

Travis frowned. "I mean, I meant exactly what it sounds like. The four of you are back, but we didn't see Percy... I was going to ask, Annabeth, really I was, but I thought it would be too soon to ask in front of you, so I was just waiting until-"

But Annabeth didn't stick around to hear the rest of his justification. She heard all she needed to hear; Travis didn't see Percy so he thought the son of Poseidon perished on the mission. That's foolish, Annabeth thought. Percy could handle a giant. He could handle pretty much anything the world threw at him.

Feeling a dozen pairs of eyes on her, Annabeth hurried towards the Poseidon cabin. Percy must be taking a nap. Distantly, she heard three pairs of footsteps pounding the dirt behind her, following her on this quest.

The Poseidon cabin always has an inviting aura about it, Annabeth noted as she approached the short building. Even before anyone lived in it, it was like it was calling to someone. Now that sensation feels particularly intense.

Annabeth doesn't want to read too much into it. Not now.

She doesn't stop on the wooden porch, not to wait for her friends (who she still hears walking behind her; they have the same subtly as a group of elephants in the city), nor to knock on the door. Instead, she flings the wooden door open and marches into the cabin.

It was empty. One bunk was messy, covered in nonsense, which she knew was Percy's bunk. The others were perfectly made.

Where was Percy?

Annabeth heard the footsteps of her friends stop in the doorway to the cabin, as well as their slightly-labored breathing. She doesn't make an attempt to move, instead surveying the room of a trace of the son of Poseidon. Where had he gone? He had to be here! Travis had to be lying, that sneaky son of Hermes, she would-

Someone placed a hand on Annabeth's shoulder, startling her from the realm of her thoughts. Slowly, the daughter of Athena turned to see a dark haired daughter of Aphrodite looking at her with sympathy. Annabeth blinked quickly; she hadn't realized her eyes were tearing up until the dam nearly burst.

"He has to be here somewhere," Silena assured, keeping her steady hand firmly on the other girl's shoulder. "That giant was no match for him."

Annabeth nodded. "I know. But I just thought he'd be here..." She looked around the room again, hoping to catch a clue as to where her best friend was. Her gray eyes scanned the room, lingering on the fountain in the back.

A sudden thought occurred to the daughter of Athena and she wanted to smack her forehead in an attempt to get some sense into her thick skull. "Of course," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. "Why didn't we think to Iris Message him?"

Despite the low tones, Silena heard. A grin spread across her face as she followed Annabeth towards the fountain. "That's a great idea, Annabeth! Does the fountain have drachmas?"

"Yes," Annabeth answered absentmindedly, reaching a hand in to pluck out a coin. She heard Grover and Beck approach them from behind, their feet making the wooden floorboards creak. For the moment, she ignored them, choosing to focus on the message.

"Oh, Iris, accept my offering," she prayed softly, tossing the coin into the mist. It disappeared, making Annabeth smile widely. "Show me Perseus Jackson..." She hesitated, not knowing a location to give. But she figured Percy was so known, Iris must know where he was.

There was silence for a moment, before an image started to form in the rainbow. A face slowly took form, framed by dark hair, until it popped into a clear image. The four remaining questers stared into the brown eyes of Iris.

"I'm sorry, but I can't reach him at this time. Please try again later!" She said enthusiastically, sounding like an automated message. The rainbow dispelled, a drachma falling back into the fountain at the failed connection.

It took Silena another five minutes to pry Annabeth from the fountain, and even longer to get her to leave the Poseidon cabin. Where was Percy?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect the next chapter towards the end of this coming week (aiming for Thursday, but maybe Friday). Thanks!! :)

Third Person POV

"I'm sorry, but I can't reach him at this time. Please try again later!" She said enthusiastically, sounding like an automated message. The rainbow dispelled, a drachma falling back into the fountain at the failed connection.

It took Silena another five minutes to pry Annabeth from the fountain, and even longer to get her to leave the Poseidon cabin. Where was Percy?

 

Percy was in hell. Plain and simple, this was hell.

"Apprentice, I believe it is time for the next training sequence."

Percy looked at the monster on his left and nodded wordlessly, causing it to scurry from the room in a hurry. He stared after it for a moment before sighing heavily behind the navy blue mask Kronos had already prepared before his arrival. Upon seeing the sheet of metal, Percy screamed, images of Manhattan burning and laughing golden eyes flashing through his mind. But the titan of time was nothing if not stubborn, and all it took for the son of Poseidon to agree was another threat against his friends.

After what he saw the first time, Percy wasn't stupid enough to allow them to get hurt again.

Thankfully, his eyes were still sea green, though. No golden eyes peering through the navy blue mask, no black button up shirt, no flaming city reflecting in the background. It was just a stupid dream.

So far, Percy measured two weeks had passed since Kronos kidnapped him and watched as he slowly killed his friends. Two weeks since Percy had unwillingly joined the forces of Kronos. Two weeks since anyone had called him "Percy" or even "Perseus". Two weeks since he had spoken, two weeks since he had seen any of his friends.

Two weeks during which Kronos spent every hour honing the skills of his new apprentice.

"Ah, I see you're ready to start the next training activity," the titan of time mocked as Percy stepped into the room, the same room he woke up in, the room with the eerie green lighting and that damned screen.

Percy knew better than to attempt a reply by now. The first time had been bad enough. With the beating Kronos gave him, he had to be spoon-fed ambrosia. It reminded him of when he first met Annabeth, when he woke up to her saying "you drool in your sleep". Instead, he woke up to a demigod he had never met before saying, "If you talk to him again, he'll kill you and then he'll kill them."

Two weeks since he had last uttered a word.

In place of a verbal response, Percy nodded his masked head slowly. The first couple times, he shrugged, but that seemed to have an adverse effect unfortunately similar to that of speaking. Something about how "true soldiers are always ready" or some shit like that. Without having to speak, Percy found it so much easier to tune out one's words. And unlike his school teachers, Kronos never asked him to repeat what he had just said if he caught Percy zoning out.

(He just beat him, which was in some ways better and some ways worse. At least he was spared the humiliation that always seemed to follow him in school because of things like that. He wasn't spared the pain of every single molecule in his body aching every second of every fucking day. But that's what makes compromises tough, he supposed.)

Kronos grinned widely, seeing the nod. "Good. We're going to continue to hone your powers today."

Percy gave an internal groan and fought off the urge to shudder. Right after he was informed to keep a vow of silence by the demigod, Kronos and he started working on 'honing powers'. At least, that's what the titan called it. Percy would prefer to call it elemental torture, or something akin to that. Upon seeing that his new apprentice 'lacked basic control' over his powers, Kronos worked him night and day to improve them. It resulted in a constant state of exhaustion, but an admittedly more powerful son of Poseidon. An admittedly more powerful weapon.

(It was easier to think of himself as a weapon, sometimes, instead of a demigod or a son of Poseidon or Sally Jackson's son or somebody's friend or anything at all. Because then, he could pretend that every moment of his life, every breath he took, wasn't a betrayal. He owed them so much more than this. He should've just killed himself when Kronos gave him a moment of peace alone. Maybe that giant in the woods was right when he said that Percy was suicidal and delicious.)

Kronos pointed to a spot in the green-lit room, near the middle. "Stand there," he commanded, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

Wordlessly, as he did every task, Percy obeyed. What else could he do?

Grinning madly, Kronos unfolded his arms and spread them wide, making a T-shape in the room, directly across from Percy. "Summon a wave," he said casually, but it was another demand. "Attack me."

Eager to avoid yet another two-hour beating session post-training, Percy concentrated with all his might. He could do this. He called upon the little pool in his stomach, now that Kronos had allowed him access to his powers. He coaxed it out, creating a wall of water behind the titan of time. It would crash, and that would be his wave. Simple.

He let the water go, watching it rush around the titan. When the liquid stopped ebbing and flowing, Kronos was still there, arms crossed.

"Again," he stated, voice leaving no room for an argument Percy didn't even think of posing. "Stronger. Better. I thought I told you to attack me."

By experience, Percy knew that he needed to nod here. Even if it didn't sound like a question, Kronos expected a non-verbal response.

"Then do it," the titan hissed, Ethan's face twisting with disgust and shame.

This time, Percy called upon the pool of power in his stomach as well as the reserves of emotion hidden in his mind and in his heart. He tugged at the fear tickling his subconscious at the thought of hurting his friends and family under Kronos. He coaxed out his hope that maybe, if he played his cards right, he could get back to Camp Half Blood and be reunited with his friends. He urged his contentment to appear in the light of his mind, to show that despite all his wrongs, his friends were still alive so wasn't that a right?

And above it all, he pulled at his anger. His rage. His fury that he beat the giant in the woods only to be drugged, kidnapped, taken here, wherever here was. His resentment about this situation he was in, forced into by Kronos, where he would either have to destroy the gods- the family that abandoned him- or risk losing his friends and camp- the family that, for the most part, accepted him without question. His irritation that making the choice between destroying the gods and losing his friends had been an easy one. His annoyance that knowing, despite everything, that Annabeth would rather he lose his friends than destroy the gods, especially if it meant he sacrificed everything he stood for to save the campers. But most of all, he summoned his outrage at having to turn against those he held so close just in order to make sure they remained breathing.

When he had his power gathered about him, he didn't attempt to build a wall of water behind Kronos for the purpose of collecting until he caused it to fall. Obviously, the titan had expected that the first time, maybe even sensed it. No, he needed a new plan. And with this amount of power growing behind his closed eyelids, he knew it would be enough to satisfy the titan's demands, at least for now.

The tidal wave came out of thin air, appearing an inch behind the titan of time. It reached from the floor to the ceiling of the room, which wasn't too remarkable considering the stoutness of the green-lit room, but was more water than he had summoned any other time. It didn't stop coming with the initial wave, either; the water kept materializing, pouring from the ceiling so it would seem, dousing the titan until he was obscured completely from view by dark, yet glowing green, water.

Percy had enough strength and energy left to make sure that it flowed around him, parting like it was the Red Sea and he was Moses. (Truthfully, he believed that Moses was a son of Poseidon. Although they couldn't exactly write that fact in the Bible which was read to him in elementary school, otherwise that would cause some... Complications in one's faith.) The water swirled about his body, not a single drop getting close enough to touch his skin. The son of Poseidon remained completely dry.

Finally, when he let the water recede after a time which would've caused a mortal to drown (another one of Kronos's lessons, learning the weaknesses of his enemies- of which he was assured mortals would be now), the titan of time stood before him. He was a few steps closer than he had been before the second wall of water, indicating to Percy that he had apparently stumbled under the attack and hadn't been able to regain his previous footing. Not in the flood or on the now-slippery floor. His arms were no longer crossed, like they had been when he demanded a second attack, meaning he had tried to slow time to help himself against the cascade of water. This also meant the initial part of the attack came as a surprise, otherwise he would've had time to prepare and save himself. But once the attack started, it was so constant in its stream of water that no attempt to slow time would provide an exit or reprieve.

Percy waited silently, his right eyebrow raised underneath the invisibility of the navy blue mask the damned titan forced him to wear. What had he thought about this attack, hm? Had it met his high standards? Had it pleased the unpleasable titan, the son of bitch that only existed in this time to make Percy's short life as miserable as possible?

Kronos eyed Percy with his golden orbs for a moment, the entire room silent bar the steady dripping of remaining water from the room's ceiling. The green light of the room reflected off the water coating the titan's entire being as he stood, drenched, and watched the son of Poseidon. Then, a slow smirk curled onto his face. "That will do nicely, so long as you maintain this level of power. I will expect no less, especially not from my apprentice. Do you hear me?"

A nod. An internal curse, followed by a silent barrage of insults. All ending with the non-verbal threat of a slow, painful death if only he was released from this role. If only his friends weren't held as lifeless bargaining chips, treated like otherwise-worthless blackmail. But it was a nod nonetheless.

Kronos grinned. "Good." He walked towards the son of Poseidon, who had the only door to the room at his back. Just as he was passing his new, unwilling apprentice, the titan of time stopped. He eyed the younger being, who stared stoically ahead as if he couldn't see the golden-eyed monster next to him. The grin widened.

"You know, Apprentice, perhaps you'll even see me as a father before all this is over. We've certainly got enough time left in this relationship." He reached a hand, twitching like a spider in a web as it sensed a trapped fly, the five fingers resting briefly atop the black mop that Percy called hair. He ruffled it, messing with the locks in a terrible parody of an actual father-son relationship.

A moment too late for Percy's tastes, Kronos retracted his hand. He walked out of the room, laughter bubbling on his lips, as if he knew exactly what thoughts were passing through Percy's head. It was a mockery, a disgrace. He could still feel those cold fingers digging into his scalp, the stench of his sickening cologne still trapped in his nostrils.

As the door to the training room slammed shut, Percy fought the urge to scream. He wanted to turn, wanted to shriek, "I already have a father!" until his voice caught in his throat due to overuse and the titan's ears bled. He wanted to smash the walls in, break every single gods-damned green light in this entire room until the floor was littered with glass and he needed a pair of fucking stilts just to ensure that he didn't mutilate his feet by walking around, even in the standard combat boots of the warriors. He wanted to walk out of the room, out of the building, setting it on fire as he went and drowning anyone that dared try to stop him.

But instead, Percy Jackson swallowed that rage, let it stew for another time. With a projected air of ease and indifference, he strolled out of the eerily lit room, the dripping of water echoing like a melody in his ears. He didn't look back, just as his imagined self did as he stormed away from the burning, exploding compound. But he wasn't running. Not yet. Not while his friends were in trouble.

Gods, what would Annabeth think of him now?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect the next chapter to appear around Monday! 
> 
> Also, a quick warning that there will be a long break coming up. I'll say more about it next week, but just a preparation! 
> 
> Thanks! :)

Third Person POV 

With a projected air of ease and indifference, he strolled out of the eerily lit room, the dripping of water echoing like a melody in his ears. He didn't look back, just as his imagined self did as he stormed away from the burning, exploding compound. But he wasn't running. Not yet. Not while his friends were in trouble.

Gods, what would Annabeth think of him now?

 

Annabeth Chase was slowly but surely driving herself insane.

Two weeks. Two weeks had passed since anyone had seen Percy Jackson, legendary son of Poseidon.

Two weeks since Iris had stopped connecting anyone through to him, claiming he was "off the grid" and "inaccessible". (At least, that's what she said when Camp Half Blood sent a small squad to Olympus to interrogate- sorry, talk to the goddess of rainbows. Annabeth, naturally, was a part of the group. And despite what anyone else- Clarisse- would say about her, she was on her best behavior the entire time. It wasn't her fault that her best behavior consisted of cursing, shouting, and threatening a goddess that looked too much like a hippie to be trusted.)

Two weeks since Annabeth had made the worst mistake of her life. Gods, why had she left him? Why hadn't she just gone after him herself? Maybe if she had, maybe if she hadn't let him foolishly jump out of that goddamned truck, he would be in camp with them. This was all her fault.

Why had she listened to Beckendorf? She wanted so much to hate him, because he told her, he promised, that Percy could take care of himself. But she was the one that listened to him instead of her own judgement. The only person she could blame was herself.

And, don't worry. She made sure she blamed herself.

"Annabeth?" Someone poked her in the shoulder. The daughter of Athena started, her arm falling to smack the table as her chin, which was resting on her knuckles, shot up. She looked at her guest with wide, slightly bloodshot, gray eyes.

"Thalia!" she cried after a moment, recognizing the visitor. Quickly, she scrambled to her feet at the Athena table in the pavilion. "What are you doing here?" She tried to look behind the daughter of Zeus, but Thalia moved to block her view. "Are the other Hunters of Artemis in the cabin?"

"It's just me," Thalia clarified, looking at her best friend with eyes narrowed with concern. She nibbled her bottom lip, something she was prone to doing when she was very nervous or stressed. "Why don't we sit down?"

Annabeth was about to accept, when she remembered her cabin mates. Most of them were probably staring at her in blatant disapproval by now, having interrupted their breakfast. She turned around from her seat at the end of the table, looking at her siblings. Except... There was no one there.

Frowning, Annabeth turned back to Thalia. "Where'd they all go?" But even as she asked the question, she looked around the rest of the pavilion and noticed a distinct lack of other teenage campers. How had she missed the overbearing silence burdening the air a moment ago?

The worried crinkle around Thalia's eyes increased as she thought about how to phrase her next words with sensitivity. "Annabeth," she started cautiously, "breakfast ended a little while ago. They all left to start their daily activities."

Annabeth stared, not speaking for a long minute. "How long ago?"

Glancing down at the watch on her wrist, Thalia grimaced before saying, "Half an hour ago."

"No." Blue eyes shot up to stare into gray ones. "No, it couldn't have ended half an hour ago," Annabeth protested again. "I got here at the same time as them, we ate breakfast together. I wasn't sitting here for..." She trailed off mid-sentence, unable to stop herself from losing conviction as she spoke. Then a sudden thought occurred to her. "Shit, my daily activities! I'm cabin leader, I need to tidy up the cabin! It's cabin-check day today!"

Thalia wrapped a hand around Annabeth's upper arm, stopping her as she tried to make a mad dash back to her cabin to clean it. "Annabeth, relax. I talked to Malcolm. He's got cabin duty today, he'll clean it."

Blinking, Annabeth nodded slowly.

"Can we sit down?" Thalia asked again when her best friend made no move to speak.

Silently, Annabeth lowered herself into a seat. Thalia sank down in obvious relief.

After a moment of mutual silence, Annabeth asked softly, "Why are you here?" She had a suspicion tickling at the back of her mind, but she wanted to hear it said.

"Grover called me," the daughter of Zeus answered simply.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting more of a continuation.

Thalia sighed. "He told me what happened." At her friend's blank look, she elaborated. "With Percy."

It was terrifying how quickly Annabeth's face went from curious and open to closed off and sorrowful. Thalia tried to stop her mid-transition. "Look, Annabeth, whatever you're thinking, it can't possibly be that bad. He's Percy freaking Jackson and-"

Annabeth exploded. "I know he's Percy freaking Jackson, Thalia! That's why we're in this mess in the first place! I was stupid and I let him be stupid and jump out of that stupid truck to fight that goddamn giant, and now he's missing! Because I didn't jump out of the truck after him! Because I didn't convince Beck to turn that truck around to get him! Because I listened to Beck and made the decision to keep going! We should've gone back! The piece of shit bomb didn't even do anything! We would've been better off going back for him, but I made the decision to keep going. It was my fault, Thalia. I was the leader of the mission and Percy didn't come home because I wasn't good enough. So tell me, Thalia, how it can't possibly be 'that bad'."

The daughter of Zeus stared at her best friend for a long moment, not saying anything. The black eyeliner that had become her trademark made her electric blue eyes pop, making the one-sided staring contest even more intense than it would've been.

When the other girl made no move to speak, Annabeth huffed and hastily stood up from the table. She didn't need this. It was obvious that Thalia clearly felt the same way, that this was all her fault. She was just too disgusted with the girl she used to see as her sister to say anything. Especially in the wake of the sudden, uncharacteristic outburst.

Well, losing someone you... cared about will make a person behave irrationally. (Annabeth refused to say that love made people do crazy things. She wasn't in love, and it certainly wasn't with Percy. The stupid Seaweed Brain... Whom she left for dead.)

Annabeth carefully extracted her legs from the bench attached to the long picnic table, taking great precautions in avoiding Thalia's blue-eyed, relentless stare. Under her breath, she muttered some pathetic excuse that even she could only vaguely hear, walking away from the table and the daughter of Zeus. She was almost to the exit of the pavilion when a soft voice stilled her feet. It wasn't the words that stopped her in her tracks, but the tone of voice.

No one could call Thalia Grace vulnerable, certainly not if they wished to live another day.

"I can't tell you it isn't 'that bad'," Thalia said softly. Gods be damned if she didn't sound like she was opening herself up for a heart-to-heart, vulnerable sounding or not. Annabeth felt the rough edges of her heart, broken when Percy disappeared, begin to soften just a little.

"It seems like it is pretty bad," the hunter of Artemis continued, sounding for the world like any sympathetic yet understanding best friend would. It was hard to believe that this was the same badass teenager that nearly died fighting off a hoard of monsters.

"I know. I've been there." Annabeth felt the gaze of those blue eyes piercing into the back of her head. Slowly, she spun around on her heel, only to find Thalia's eyes fixed on one of the many imperfections of the wooden Athena-cabin table.

"I had a brother," Thalia explained slowly, in the same soft voice she stopped Annabeth with. "His name was Jason. You might've heard me mention him, if I was stuck in a nightmare." She offered a weak chuckle. "Demigod dreams are never kind, and neither are some memories of the past. Sometimes, I'm not sure which I would prefer."

Annabeth didn't realize she was walking back to the table until she was standing only a few feet away from the bench she just stood up from a moment ago. Still, Thalia did not attempt to meet her gray eyes.

"Our mom took us, one day, to a park. She said she forgot something in the car and asked me to go back to get it. She promised she would stay with Jason, who was only a little kid at the time." A rueful smile flashed across Thalia's face. "His little toddler hands were so chubby... He reached out to me, you know, right before I turned to run back to the car. When I came back, with Jason's blanket..." She took a deep, steadying breath before continuing, "my mom was sitting on the ground, crying, and Jason was gone."

The daughter of Athena didn't know what to say. In place of words, she kept staring at Thalia, as if trying to make her look up with only her eyes to speak for her.

Thalia looked up, finally, traces of red lining her electric blue orbs and announcing her sorrow to any close enough and privileged enough to see. "My mom gave Jason away," she finished, voice barely above a whisper as she relayed the terrible ending of a nightmarish fairy tale. Her eyes shot back down to the wood, picking out the flaws in the material. "And that was the day I ran away from home."

Silence invaded the pavilion in the wake of such a confession, Annabeth having no idea what to say or even think. She was touched that Thalia trusted her enough to tell her this story, especially since it was clearly one so close to her heart and her soul. But why had she told her this? Why now?

As if sensing her best friend's thoughts, the daughter of Zeus continued to speak, her voice containing a little more confidence now that her own personal story was over. "I couldn't have saved Jason any more than you could've saved Percy," she said. "I could've argued with my mom, I could've taken Jason with me to the car. I shouldn't have trusted her to keep him safe, to not give him her full attention and devotion. But I trusted her with him, I left him with her, and he is gone. There's nothing I can do to change that, no matter how hard I try.

"With Percy, you could've jumped out of the truck. You could've convinced Beck to turn around and go help him. You should've trusted your gut, because it's never led you wrong before. But you didn't, and Percy is missing." Slowly, as if trying not to spook the daughter of Athena by a sudden motion, Thalia stood up from the table, making eye contact. "But do you want to know something?"

Annabeth hesitated for only a millisecond before saying, "What?" She tried to pretend that her voice didn't have as much desperation as she heard in it.

"Percy isn't gone, Annabeth. And we will find him. But we won't find him if you're running yourself into a wall, falling asleep during breakfast. Everyone is worried about you, Annabeth. Grover was worried enough to call me, Malcolm and your siblings were worried enough to take over all your chores and duties. Chiron is worried, couldn't you tell in the way he's been interacting less with the campers? I'm sure even Mr. D is worried, in his own... Unique ways."

Annabeth cracked a small smile at that. Thalia mimicked her, her smile reeking with relief.

"I'm going to help you find Kelp Head," Thalia promised. "And then you'll go in and get him back, because if there's anyone that can bring Percy Jackson home, it's you."

 

Thalia stayed in the camp for a week after that before having to return to the Hunters of Artemis. The lieutenant could only be gone for so long before the goddess needed to summon her back.

And although they hadn't found anything new about Percy and his whereabouts in those seven days, Annabeth saw her best friend out of camp feeling a lot lighter than she had a week prior.

"I'll call you if we hear anything about him," the daughter of Zeus said, hugging Annabeth good-bye at the camp border, her pine tree looming over them.

"The same goes for us here," Annabeth promised, pulling back with a stern look on her face. "But if you're in the middle of a hunt, that doesn't mean you need to come running back to find him. We'll be fine. We've pulled rescue missions before."

Thalia laughed. "Have any of them been for a self-sacrificing son of Poseidon? You'll need to make yourself a dream team to deal with him."

As Annabeth watched Thalia walk away, through the border and into the woods of Long Island surrounding the camp, she couldn't help but grin. She already had a dream team.

 

Four weeks. Four weeks since Percy had unwillingly joined Kronos. Each day they had focused on building his powers, but the training really spiked in intensity during the last seven days.

Percy was exhausted, mentally and physically, but he still had enough brain power to be afraid. Whatever Kronos was planning for him was going to come into play soon. Otherwise he wouldn't push him so hard. He just hoped that maybe he would have a chance to get word to camp, let them know that he was at least all right.

It was at dawn on his twenty-ninth day with Kronos that Percy was summoned, once again, into the green-lit room. This seemed to be where Kronos enjoyed interacting with him the most. Maybe it was because the water he conjured looked like poison in the lighting. Percy could almost imagine that it was poison and he was killing himself instead of suffering through the war by Kronos's side.

So much for being not suicidal, then.

Percy walked into the room with an air of fake, practiced ease, masked head held high as he regarded the titan. Kronos smirked at the charade, but he was enjoying the performance too much to comment and stop it. Instead of a degraded mark, he simply greeted, "Apprentice."

Percy offered a nod in acknowledgement, still not trusting Kronos to accept a verbal statement.

If possible, the smirk embedded in Kronos's face widened. "I have a mission for you."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update shall be this coming weekend! Expect it around Saturday, probably. :) Thanks!

Third Person POV

Percy walked into the room with an air of fake, practiced ease, masked head held high as he regarded the titan. Kronos smirked at the charade, but he was enjoying the performance too much to comment and stop it. Instead of a degraded mark, he simply greeted, "Apprentice."

Percy offered a nod in acknowledgement, still not trusting Kronos to accept a verbal statement.

If possible, the smirk embedded in Kronos's face widened. "I have a mission for you."

If he had the option, Percy would've cussed out the titan. As it was, he was tempted to even break his streak of silence in order to demand that Kronos check himself into an insane asylum because there was no way in hell that he was going to do what he wanted him to do.

Unfortunately, all Percy could do was wave his hand in a loop, silently asking the titan of time to repeat himself.

Kronos did so with pleasure. He grinned at the son of Poseidon as if he knew what was going on inside his head, as if he knew the cursing and the screaming and the blind rage all held back by his meager instincts for self-preservation. (The keyword in that sentence was "meager". Percy wasn't sure how much longer self-preservation would be able to stop him from doing something that would end up killing him. He guessed not much longer, especially if he stayed around Kronos any longer than necessary.)

"You wish for me to repeat myself?" the titan asked for clarification first. Seeing his newest apprentice nod back, albeit with an air of bitterness and resentment, his grin grew and took on a feral tint. "Of course.

"There is a shipment coming in of material that I need for... Private purposes. Don't give me that look, Apprentice, of course it's for the war against those foolish gods you once followed. And of course I'm not telling you what it's for specifically, so just pay attention to the rest of the mission briefing. Now, as I was attempting to say, there is a shipment coming in of classified materials, which I need you to secure for me and bring back to base. I'm sending you alone, Apprentice, because I can't risk my monsters fighting against the security that I'm sure will be guarding this shipment."

Kronos's golden eyes narrowed and, in a flash, he was standing only a foot or two away from Percy. He looked down into the navy blue mask of his apprentice with Ethan's face, a frown etching lines into the mortal skin. "You will not run while securing and returning these materials. You will not even attempt to contact the camp, Olympus, or anyone you associated with before I graciously took you under my wing. If I see or hear of you attempting to turn, to betray me, or anything of the sort..." He let the threat hang in the air, wordlessly pulling the silver box with three buttons out of his jacket pocket. His thumb brushed lightly against the middle, midnight black button, carefully not to press it.

The consequence rang as loudly in the air as if Kronos had shouted it into Percy's ear himself. Carefully, the son of Poseidon nodded.

Kronos studied the masked face for a long moment before he too nodded in agreement, apparently seeing Percy's resolve to not let the titan hurt his friends. "Good," the titan of time murmured lowly, grinning wickedly. "You leave in twelve hours, long after the sun has sent. I'll send the remaining directions to your room."

Not able to voice words, not even sure if he wanted to right at the moment (a curse, a shout, a rebellion would only get him and his friends killed right now), Percy nodded again.

Kronos stepped away and began to study something written on a map on the wall where the TV screen previously hung. After a moment, he glanced back at the son of Poseidon with a frown. "You're still here? Leave me, Apprentice. You are dismissed."

 

Annabeth put her head in her hands, elbows resting on the green surface of the rec room ping pong table. So far, four weeks (twenty-eight days, to be exact) had passed since Percy's sudden disappearance, and no one was moving on. They were all too busy with war preparations, which made them miss their general. They were so busy looking for their general, too, because who else could inspire the whole camp not to die a tragic death at the hands of the monsters? They needed Percy, whether they liked it or not.

Which led to their current situation.

Annabeth was sitting in the rec room, peacefully minding her own business and scouring a map for any place nearby that they hadn't looked yet for Percy, when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," she had said, to no reply. When a second invitation yielded the same results, the daughter of Athena sighed and stood up, opening the door.

What looked like at least half the camp was standing outside the door.

Beck, Silena, and Grover were standing at the front of the crowd. "Annabeth," Silena said with her brow furrowed slightly in a delicate pout, "please let us in." Annabeth was sure the daughter of Athena used charmspeak, but with no way to prove it, her compelled body swung the door open wider before returning to her seat by the map.

One by one, people filed in.

It ended up looking like a regular cabin counselor meeting, minus the son of Poseidon and the wise, old centaur that sat at the head of the table. Annabeth felt a stab of familiarity, which then led to a flash of confusion.

"Why are you guys here?" she asked when Clarisse la Rue, the last person in the room, stepped through the doorway.

The daughter of Ares locked the door behind her, standing there with her arms crossed instead of taking a seat, and that's when Annabeth knew. She put her head in her hands and sighed. This wasn't a casual gathering. This was an intervention.

"Annabeth," Silena started. It only seemed fitting that she would be the first to address the issues, Annabeth commented internally, seeing as how she was the one that got them into the room. "We're worried about you."

"Yeah? Well, I'm worried about Percy. So I guess we're all worried about something, huh?" She hadn't meant to sound that snappish and sarcastic, but she couldn't take back her voice now. Still, she winced slightly hearing herself speak.

Beck tried next. "We're all worried about Percy, too, Annabeth. But that doesn't mean you need to throw yourself into looking for him. He-"

Annabeth rose from her seat before Beck could finish his sentence, a half-formed snarl sitting on her lips. "Don't you dare tell me he can take care of himself."

The son of Hephaestus had the grace to look taken aback. "No, Annabeth! I was going to say that he wouldn't want you to worry about him. Not with this war going on."

"You'd know a lot about what he'd want, wouldn't you, Beck?" Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't truly slept well in four weeks (twenty-eight days). Maybe that was why she sounded like such a bitch right then. Or maybe they were all just being rude, telling her to stop and calm down and actually sleep, when they knew full well that she wouldn't be able to do any of that until Percy was found! Didn't they get it? She-

Someone put a hand on her tense shoulder. If possible, Annabeth stiffened further, having not sensed the movement.

"Annabeth, you know he didn't mean it like that." Grover. Of course Grover would come to Beck's aid. They're all best friends now, best friends that don't give a rat's ass about Percy and his whereabouts or his wellbeing. He might as well already be dead for all that they cared!

Either Annabeth had suppressed this kind of rage for the last nearly-sixteen years of her life, or her sleep deprivation was really doing some weird things to her head. She preferred to go with the former instead of the latter, if only because it made her seem less like a psychopath. Which was always a plus in situations such as these.

"Well, what did he mean, Grover?" Annabeth heard herself spit at the startled satyr, who obviously wasn't expecting her to react so violently to his words. "And would all of you stop using my name whenever you speak to me? We all know who you're addressing, and I am not some crazy psychopath that needs the reminder of who they are or who they're supposed to be!"

Her words ended up sounding more fevered and confused towards the end of the rant, but she pretended not to notice.

Annabeth watched Beck open his mouth at the same time as Silena did, both of them about to attempt to calm the daughter of Athena. She guessed that Silena would lace her words with charmspeak, which would only work for a moment before the crazed demigod shook off the magic and did something she might regret. If, by some strange chance, Beck managed to speak first, he would say something that was well-meant with good intent behind it, but she would take it the wrong way. Both outcomes ended with Annabeth doing something she might regret in a fit of rage, desperation, and exhaustion.

"If I call you Princess, that doesn't count as using your name, does it?"

Everyone froze and turned to the daughter of Ares blocking the door to the rec room. The burly girl had her brown eyes locked on Annabeth's gray ones, refusing to break eye contact even as Annabeth sensed Silena waving her hands madly in an attempt to stop her best friend. The daughter of war was far too stubborn to back down, especially when she had the angry girl's attention all for herself.

Annabeth paused before responding coldly, "I would advise against it, regardless."

Clarisse shrugged. "And I would advise against you being in here alone after gods-know-how-many sleepless nights, plotting a scheme to storm the castle and save your boyfriend."

Pink-faced, the only retort Annabeth could think of was, "He's not my boyfriend! And besides, we don't even know where Kronos is!"

"Sure, Princess," Clarisse said with a roll of her eyes, disbelief dripping off her lips. "Let's pretend for a moment that he really isn't your boyfriend. I'm sure the Aphrodite campers are all devastated, but let's forget about them for a moment." She leaned forwards in challenge, but a part of her body remained firmly holding the door in place at all times. "What is your plan for finding that jackass son of Poseidon?"

For once, Annabeth didn't know what to say. What was her plan? She had spent hours looking for a way to get to Percy, a way to send him a message, a way to find out where in hell he was. But she hadn't come up with anything beyond waiting for Kronos to make a move.

She didn't want to wait for the titan, though. Who knew what he was doing to Percy as they spoke?

Clarisse saw the answer to her question in Annabeth's silence. The daughter of Ares nodded twice to herself, a frown set on her face. "You don't know, do you?" It was phrased like a question, but the tone was a mix between a statement and an accusation.

Too lost in her shame to feel rage, Annabeth nodded once in agreement.

"I don't blame you." The daughter of Athena looked up to see the daughter of war staring at her with something akin to sympathy. Suddenly, Annabeth remembered a few months ago, probably a year by now, when Clarisse recovered Chris Rodriguez from the Labyrinth and helped nurse him back to health with the help of Mr. D. Even though Chris had physically been there at the time, he was as lost to Clarisse in his insanity as Percy was to Annabeth now. If anyone knew, it was Clarisse.

"I don't blame you, really," the daughter of Ares continued, a mask of indifference blocking most of the emotions from her face. Despite that, her eyes still shone with understanding. "But we can't have our best strategist fall into a sleep-induced coma because she was too busy solving an impossible possible. We need Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena and the best damn strategist on Olympus, right now. We don't need Annabeth, worried best friend of Percy Jackson. But that's who we're concerned about most."

Annabeth felt the fight drain out of her as she listened to Clarisse's words. She was right, gods damn her. The camp needed Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena. Olympus needed Annabeth Chase, strategist of Camp Half Blood. Percy Jackson needed Annabeth Chase, the smartest child of Athena in this century. But all she was offering was Annabeth, the sleep-deprived teenage girl.

Gods damn it. Why couldn't Clarisse just be wrong? It would be so much easier to fight, to hate her and to hate this, if she wasn't right.

Annabeth sighed heavily. "You're right. I wish you weren't, but you're right." She raked a hand through her messy blonde tangles, not caring who was present. "Fuck, I just... I just miss him. But you're right, Clarisse."

"I know I am," she acknowledged gently, voice without the loud, commanding tone it usually held. Finally, the daughter of Ares stepped away from the door and approached the weakened daughter of Athena just as Annabeth collapsed into her chair. "And right now, I know that you need a nap. Preferably one that lasts for a few days, at least."

Again, Annabeth knew that Clarisse was right. But it was her instinct to rebel against the daughter of Ares. "But what if something happens? What if Percy gets a message through and he needs me, if you guys need me? I won't be able to-"

"If any of that happens," Clarisse assured as she carefully picked Annabeth up from her chair, "we'll know exactly where to find you."

Reassured by the calming voice and the warm, strong arms holding her up, Annabeth finally let her mind relax. She owed herself some rest and she owed Camp Half Blood a level-headed leader. She didn't want to disappoint anyone else.

 

Annabeth Chase woke up nearly twenty-four hours later in her bunk in the Athena cabin. Or, at least, she thought it was her bunk in the Athena cabin at first. Still groggy from much needed sleep, she sat up slowly, rubbing her head. She was definitely in Camp Half Blood, because she was definitely laying (now sitting) on one of the bunks. But this wasn't the Athena cabin.

For one, there wasn't a book in sight. No shelves stacked against the wall, no piles of books and notebooks placed precariously where someone was just bound to knock it over and hurt themselves. The floor wasn't littered with lost or misplaced pens and pencils, some with the ends chewed by concentrating geniuses.

Instead, candy wrappers dotted the wooden floorboards, hiding under poorly-made beds and peeking out from underneath the clothes scattered throughout the cabin. There weren't many clothes, granted, but still enough to be noticeable. A hoodie sat at the end of a bunk, half-spilling onto the ground. There was at least one candy wrapper nestled in its pocket. An orange camp t-shirt sat on top of a dresser with most of the drawers open. The few drawers shut all had clothing trapped half in and half out, stuck between the layers of wood. There was a pair of bathing suit shorts underneath the bunk opposite that of which Annabeth was laying on, a fine layer of dust turning the fabric from navy blue to more of a faded denim color.

And the entire cabin smelled. Not like sweat or candy or rot or anything Annabeth expected, seeing the obvious mess that it was. No, it smelled like salt.

And suddenly, she knew where she was.

But why had they put her in the Poseidon cabin?

She didn't hesitate long enough to wonder at the lack of nightmares she had last night (or day, whatever). Instead, she hopped out of the bed and started to walk towards the door, the memory of her usual nightmare haunting her even though she hadn't recently experienced it.

Manhattan was burning, and she was watching it burn. Pieces fell into the bay, large chunks of skyscrapers crashing into the ground as it imploded on itself. If only Percy were here, maybe he could stop the burning. And then there was laughing and she turned to see a man in a navy blue mask. But no, he wasn't a man, he was-

And she always woke up, that chilling laughter echoing in her ears. She had the sinking suspicious that it was Kronos tormenting her, but something in her gut told her otherwise. For once, though, she didn't want to think.

Annabeth reached the doorknob, hoping Poseidon wouldn't appear to smite her for sleeping in his cabin, especially with the knowledge he must have about her hand in his son's disappearance. Just as her fingertips brushed the cool metal of the doorknob, though, the wooden sheet swung inwards.

"Annabeth!" Silena exclaimed in surprise, seeing the daughter of Athena out of bed. Slowly, Annabeth pried open her eyes, half-expecting to see Lord Poseidon standing before her, hearing her thoughts and trident at the ready for smiting. (If a person could do that with a trident. Which was probably possible, for a god.) "What are you doing out of bed? Did you sleep well?"

Well-rested, Annabeth analyzed the situation immediately. Clarisse's words from the day prior rang in her head. If they needed her, they knew where to find her. And Silena didn't look surprised about finding her in the Poseidon cabin, just surprised about her being away.

This had to do with Percy.

"What's going on?" Annabeth asked in place of an answer, excitement licking at her veins. This was it! They had a lead about Percy!

Silena must've sensed her thoughts, because the daughter of Aphrodite visibly deflated. "I'm sorry, Annabeth, I wish this was about Percy. But we need your help."

Suppressing a sigh at her friend's words, Annabeth steeled herself before nodding. "What is it?" she asked, this time with a lot less enthusiasm.

"Poseidon just contacted us. One of his shipments of material going to Atlantis was attacked by Kronos. We need your help."


	11. Chapter 11

Third Person POV

Suppressing a sigh at her friend's words, Annabeth steeled herself before nodding. "What is it?" she asked, this time with a lot less enthusiasm.

"Poseidon just contacted us. One of his shipments of material going to Atlantis was attacked by Kronos. We need your help."

 

When Kronos told Percy that his mission was basically a high-scale, highly-important robbery, he had expected more of an in-and-out kind of mission. Especially since he would have no back-up on this mission (not that he wanted it anyway, it was just the subtle reassurance that he wasn't going into this alone that mattered to him).

What he got was a warehouse at the edge of the Hudson River on the Manhattan side, the building made so that it looked more like a steel fortress than an actual shipyard warehouse.

When Kronos told Percy that he should anticipate some security, he had expected a few guys with guns, mortals that wouldn't be able to see through the mist, and maybe a demigod or two. The demigod or two would be there to fight off any monsters, but everyone else would be purely mortal. (What use would Kronos have for an object that wasn't mortal made? What kind of material was he even stealing?)

What he got was a squad of at least ten Cyclops armed with swords and walkie-talkies that all apparently worked for Poseidon, god of the sea.

Why did he have to steal from his father, of all Olympians? This was probably a stupid power move, part of the wicked scheme of Kronos to demoralize the Olympians before finally sending Percy in with him to defeat them all. Did his cruelty know no bounds?

Apparently not, since as soon as he set foot at the docks, Kronos ordered him to make sure none of the Cyclops made it back to Atlantis. And since there was no one else around that oh so conveniently wanted to kill some monsters working for the good guys, the job fell to the one and only Perseus Jackson.

Goodie.

Percy watched the warehouse through binoculars for a moment, perching carefully on the roof of a building a few hundred yards away. Sighing to himself, he slipped the binoculars back into his backpack (which was black, the same as all his clothes except for that gods-forsaken mask) before gently hopping off the roof. He landed gracefully on the wooden dock after a thirty-foot drop from the roof. A part of him was grateful that Kronos had made him learn his water powers, otherwise he would've died in a splat on the dock. A different part of him wondered if it wouldn't be better if he had died that horrible, painful death.

Brushing aside lingering regrets and flashes of Annabeth's favorite TV show, Sherlock, Percy jogged silently towards the warehouse. In a flash of silver, the three Cyclops guarding the south wall dissolved into three distinct piles of golden dust, the majority of which was swept away on an invisible wind. A small remainder was left behind, a warning against any that decided to walk towards the dangerous son of Poseidon.

Percy held his silver sword in his right hand, blade lowered slightly towards the ground as he crept towards the western wall. He needed to get in through the door on that side, currently guarded by five Cyclops. Back against the corner of the south wall, he lifted the blade of the sword and used it as a mirror to peer around the corner.

He wasn't quite sure what kind of metal the sword was made of. Kronos gave it to him a few days before the mission, as if he was already planning to have Percy go out and murder his father's employees before stealing the sea god's materials. (That son of a bitch probably was, there was no need for sarcasm.) He had found the sword resting on the cot in what he was told was his 'bedroom', which looked more like a cell than a bedroom, but at least he had some vague privacy. Attached to the sword had been a brief note that said he was to use the silver weapon, which would kill mortals and monsters alike with a unique blend of metal, and that he was never to use Riptide ever again.

At least he didn't have to worry about Riptide. His pockets had been sewn shut in his pants when he arrived at the lair of Kronos and all the clothes he'd worn since were without pockets. The trusty sword had no way of returning to its owner.

In the reflection of the new, surprisingly balanced sword blade, Percy watched the five Cyclops stand perfectly still in front of the door. There were three in front of the door itself, while the other two marked the sides a few feet away as if they were living book ends. One of the monsters guarding the door had two pistols, one resting at each hip. The two right beside him both had clubs, one decked with barbed wire while the other bedazzled with protruding nails. Both of them looked like something out of The Walking Dead. And like the three Cyclops on the south side of the building, the two book ends were carrying bronze swords.

Percy saw his chance when the sword-carrying monster closest to him turned to talk to the Cyclops with the nail-studded club. He sprung around the side of the building, swinging his silver sword as he went. The long blade sliced perfectly through the air, severing the sword-carrying monster's head from his shoulders, and sending a plume of golden dust flying into the faces of his Cyclops friends.

The one with the nail-studded club stuttered at the dust, choking on his confusion, which gave Percy the advantage in swinging the silver sword back around and embedding it in the monster's gut. The club decorated with studded nails clattered to the ground.

As he pulled out the sword from the second monster's stomach, the hairs at the back of Percy's neck raised. He ducked on instinct, grateful he had listened to himself when he felt a swoosh of air where his masked head had just been. It swooshed back as the monster retracted his swing, but Percy sliced his sword upwards at the same time. The silver metal whisked through the air, where it met the arm of the third Cyclops, this one carrying the barbed-wire club. The sword cut cleanly through the monster's elbow, making both his lower arm and his wrapped club spill to the ground. Not willing to put the monster in more pain than he was probably already in, Percy easily corrected the course of his sword and directed it right through the middle of the monster's chest, cutting a neat horizontal line through his heart.

The third monster dissolved into golden dust much like the others, leaving a fourth Cyclops standing in his wake. This one held another bronze sword nearly identical to that of the first beast's weapon, but this monster had more instincts. Either that, or he listened to his gut more than the first one did. As Percy went for a swift beheading like with the first one, the bronze sword came up and met his silver one in a flash of sparks. Percy easily danced around the obstacle, swinging the sword high. Again, he was stopped by a frantically raised blade. Silently tipping his hat in respect to the Cyclops in front of him, he pretended to go in for a stab directly to the heart. As the monster made to block the third move, he redirected his strike so he cut through the monster's left leg, sending him tumbling to the ground. Not one to prolong the inevitable, he raised his sword above the felled Cyclops and brought it down in a vertical slice through the monster's body.

With the fourth Cyclops melting into golden dust at his feet, Percy turned to the last monster.

The fifth Cyclops, the one with the guns, had pressed himself into the doorway, attempting to make himself seem as small as possible so as to eliminate any hostility towards him. It was a good effort, Percy had to admit, even if it would never work with any kind of attacker, much less him. One of the others should've been gifted with the guns, he thought to himself. He would have to have words with his father after all this was over.

If all this was ever over.

Percy lowered his sword to his side, not even bothering with a defense. Calmly, he started walking towards the monster, face emotionless and body appearing completely calm and in control. As expected, the Cyclops fired a shot at him with shaking hands, too terrified to be much use to himself or his now-deceased comrades. He tried to fire a second shot, but by then Percy was too close.

The silver sword splashed a line of golden dust on the glass of the warehouse door.

Percy fought the sudden, intense urge to vomit.

"The box is down the hallway to the left," the voice of Kronos whispered in his ear once he passed through the door. "There will likely be guards there, too, so keep the sword   
ready."

Knowing Kronos probably had some way of seeing him, Percy nodded. What he really wanted was to rip the communicator from his ear, scream some obscenities into it, then smash it to bits beneath his black boots.

But when did Percy ever get what he wanted?

As he was told, there were three more guards outside the door at the end of the hallway on the left. At least he didn't have to try to guess which door it was that he needed.  
In a matter of a minute, the three Cyclops were no more than piles of golden dust staining the brown carpet of the hallway. Percy carefully walked around them, opening the door and stepping into the room.

As promised, a perfectly normal cardboard box sat in the room, a little ways off to the left. It wasn't perfectly centered beneath a spotlight like some Hollywood movie, but settled atop a spinning desk chair. Percy grabbed it, rattling it gently to check that it did have something in it, before he nodded to himself and slipped it into his black backpack.

For once, a mission was going exactly as planned.

He should've known it wouldn't last.

 

The first thing Annabeth noticed upon arriving at Poseidon's warehouse were the piles of dust outside the front door.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered, glancing in the direction of her other team members. The cursing drew their attention towards the same thing that Annabeth had already noticed.

"I see they've already infiltrated the building," Beck murmured, placing a large hand on Silena's shoulder to gather her attention away from the glittering dust and back towards the mission at hand. The daughter of Aphrodite looked between her boyfriend and Annabeth, a bronze sword in her right hand. She frowned, looking over her shoulder at the fourth member of their little crusade. Grover paled under the attention.

"What are we going to do?" he whispered, voice nearly frantic. "And why am I even here? I can't do anything in a fight!"

Annabeth rolled her eyes, stepping backwards to comfort her old friend. "You're here as back-up, as well as the fact that you can help if anyone gets injured. Your healing skills are nearly as good as those of any child of Apollo. I'm afraid we'll need those skills if this dust is any evidence of our opponents' strengths."

There were five easily distinguishable piles of golden dust by the front door, and Annabeth caught sight of three more piles on the side of the building. If she had to guess, she'd say that there was anywhere between three highly-trained opponents and seven with the barest minimum of training.

She related this hypothesis to her friends. "I think there should be between three and seven enemies currently in the building," she said, voice low as if they'd be able to hear her and attack them by surprise. "The lesser amount of people, though, the more trained they are, so neither option is a better alternative."

"Joy," Grover muttered sarcastically, his eyes wide. Standing next to him, Annabeth tried not to let his pessimistic mood ruin her confidence.

"Let's go in there and save whatever it is Poseidon is transporting, okay?" She looked around at the three others, getting a nod from each of them, though the one from Grover was a little more reluctant than the rest. Steeling her nerves, Annabeth nodded once. "Let's move."

 

Percy had made it back through the hallway and was walking towards the front door when disaster struck. Through the glass, he spotted at least two figures approaching the doors, one of which led a long bronze sword. They appeared to be human, which nearly made him groan audibly in exasperation. Demigods. Of course the demigods had to get involved.

Kronos must've seen the same thing, since a moment later the communicator in Percy's ear crackled to life. "Do not interact with them. On your left, there is a door leading to a staircase to the roof. Go."

Wordlessly, because he had no other options if he wanted to keep his friends safe while retaining a meager portion of his sanity, Percy turned right and opened the door to the staircase. His boots hit the first metal step as he heard the front door squeak open.

Breath caught in his throat, he hurried up the steps, not caring about the sound his combat boots made on the metal.

 

Annabeth cautiously opened the door to the building, wincing as its hinges squeaked in protest. At the same time, she heard the clatter of metal on metal, followed by a pause of silence. Not daring to open the door any further, she crept into the foyer of the building, her friends following behind.

After a brief moment of silence, the sound of metal on metal returned, louder than before and more hurried, as if someone was trying to escape. Knowing that any noise she made would be covered up by the ear-shattering sound of metal clashing, she ran to follow the noise.

She stood before an open door, the sign on the wall showing a pair of stairs. And sure enough, a flight of stairs spread itself before her. Another sign helpfully informed that it led to the roof, of all places. Just as she approached the first step, the daughter of Athena caught sight of a black combat boot with silver-lined soles slip away.

Silena, Beck, and Grover following close behind her, Annabeth began to hurry up the stairs in a frantic, desperate imitation of a game of tag. And she was it.

 

Percy burst onto the roof, throwing the door at the end of the stairs open into the night. It slammed shut behind him, though he doubted it was closed fully. Not bothering to check, knowing that it would only slow him down, he raced to the edge of the roof and looked down.

The wooden dock stared back up. He looked around, but the ocean was too far away to call it to him. It would take more time than he had to summon the water here, to the top of the roof, and even more to dispose of the demigods that were stalking him. Kronos was very clear; he was to have no contact with the demigods. None whatsoever. He was afraid to ask what would happen if he even locked eyes with one of them.

As he debated on what to do, he heard the soft pounding of sneakers on the stairs grow louder and louder until it was obvious that he'd have company any second now. Starting to panic, not knowing have to do, Percy backed up until the backs of his boots hit the edge of the roof. Facing the door to the stairwell, he waited with increasing anxiety for the demigods to arrive.

Gods, he just wanted Kronos to tell him what to do. Why, of all times, was the bloody titan being silent now?

 

Annabeth threw herself at the door at the end of the stairs with all her mind, expecting it to be blocked. Surely the robber would've made certain to block the door, securing himself a few more precious seconds before the team of demigods was able to apprehend him.

It came as a surprise to see that the door wasn't even fully closed. Especially when Annabeth realized that too late and tossed herself into the cold night air.

She heard the three others come up behind her, panting heavily from their mad dash after the daughter of Athena. But said child of wisdom only had eyes for one figure on the roof of Poseidon's warehouse.

In the dark of the night, the robber seemed to blend into the shadows. He wore all black (black button-up shirt, black jacket, black slacks, black combat boots, black backpack), except for the shapeless navy blue mask settled atop his face. It revealed nothing except a thin line for his tightly-pressed lips and two holes for his eyes. But it was so dark that his eyes might've well been black for all Annabeth could see of them. Even his hair was the color of a crow, or a raven.

Seeing him at the edge of the roof, glancing down and around and everywhere except at her, Annabeth felt her confidence increase. Even if it was just a little bit, it was enough to convince her that it would be good to slowly walk towards the minion of Kronos. As she neared, Annabeth noticed a small, silver scythe branded into the left cheek of the mask, nearly invisible in the night.

Without a doubt, this man was the robber they were looking for.

"You know," Annabeth drawled, ignoring the hushed protests of her friends, "that doesn't belong to you."

She expected a reply, probably something witty knowing Kronos, but all she received was a shrug. She could tell by the whites of his eyes that the man still hadn't looked at her.

She frowned. "It's rude not to look at someone when they speak to you."

The man did nothing.

Annabeth felt a sudden rage start to overcome her. Maybe it was because this man was silent in the face of justice, maybe because she hadn't been sleeping well, maybe because she was still high-strung from Percy's disappearance. But Annabeth couldn't quell the voice that whispered to her that this man was dressed almost exactly like the man in her nightmare, the man that set Manhattan on fire and watched it burn.

There was no such things as a coincidence, not in the godly world.

This man was bad.

"Look, either you're going to give that back or we'll have to take it from you," Annabeth threatened, getting closer. "It's up to you. But no one is here to help you." In her rage, Annabeth disregarded that fact that if that was the only intruder, he would have a lot of skill to take down the eight monsters that were stationed outside the building. But instead of realizing that this man could probably slice off her face in a second, Annabeth stepped even closer.

"Your little pal Kronos isn't coming to save you this time," she snarled, now within a few feet of the man.

All he did was shake his head.

"No? I assure you, it's just the five of us here now. And you're going to give me back what you stole and then we're going on a little trip to Olympus where you can explain to Poseidon exactly why you were stealing from him."

Again, the head shake.

"That was not a question."

"Annabeth..." Silena started, reaching to put a hand on her friend's arm and hold her back slightly. The daughter of Athena shook herself away, eyes locked on the minion of Kronos.

"What's the matter with you?" She snarled, slipping her bronze dagger from its sheath. "Cat got your tongue?" She held it in front of her, poised to use it against the man.

He made no move to defend himself. At least, not that she could see.

"Speak to me, gods damnit!" Annabeth roared, fury finally boiling over. She lunged for the man, who suddenly leaped over the knife and danced away from her and Silena. A silver sword appeared in his hand, which he used to disarm the son of Hephaestus that came at him next. Keeping his eyes on the three demigods and his sword pointed in front of him, he backed up towards the staircase.

But there was one thing he hadn't noticed. He should've looked at them earlier.

Grover stood by the entrance to the stairs, a short pipe held in his hand. As the minion of Kronos approached, not sensing the satyr's presence, Grover tensed, preparing to deliver a blow. Once he was in range, the satyr swung. Too late, the man trying to turn and disarm the being.

The pipe hit the minion of Kronos on the left side of his face, glancing across his cheek with the scythe embedded on it. The navy blue mask fell to the concrete ground with a small thud, leaving the man barefaced before them.

Grover saw his face first, being the closest to the man. The small pipe fell from his hands, his eyes blown wide. He stepped back, either in fear or shock, Annabeth couldn't tell.

The man tried to turn towards them only a little bit, bending over to regain the mask that had fallen at his feet. Strands of black hair flopped in front of his face, temporarily hiding his features from view. But as he straightened up, the hair fell away. For a split second, Annabeth had a clear view.

Her stomach dropped to her toes and she understood that Grover had backed away out of both fear and complete, utter shock. She heard someone gasp, though it might've just been herself. There was a ringing in her ears, suddenly, but she still heard herself when she stuttered in a shaky voice, "P-Percy?"

The man stopped in front of the door to the staircase, just about to disappear into the shadows of the building. Slowly, he turned back to face her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is really sad, but expect the next chapter around August 5th. I have vacation, then surgery, so it will have to wait until then. For now, I hope you're liking this story! If you need something to tide you over, check out some of my other works! I have three others on this site, but then I have even more posted on fanfiction.net, under the same username. Until August, thanks guys! :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... I'm back! :) Enjoy the chapter!

Third Person POV

Her stomach dropped to her toes and she understood that Grover had backed away out of both fear and complete, utter shock. She heard someone gasp, though it might've just been herself. There was a ringing in her ears, suddenly, but she still heard herself when she stuttered in a shaky voice, "P-Percy?"

The man stopped in front of the door to the staircase, just about to disappear into the shadows of the building. Slowly, he turned back to face her.

 

Shit. For the first time in weeks, Percy felt a fresh, warm summer breeze caress the skin of his bare face. He wasn't wearing his mask.

Gods dammit.

He should've noticed that there were three demigods in front of him (a small part of his mind wanted to label them as friends, but he quickly shut it down) when he had thought he heard four pairs of feet following him up the stairs. He second-guessed himself, thinking he was subconsciously counting himself in the tally.

He should've known that his gut was right.

He took care not to hurt any of them, dodging the blows and deflecting the swipes. These people used to be his friends, before Kronos happened. They would all hate him now, surely, but they used to be his friends. He couldn't just hurt them!

(A small part of his mind tried to tell him that they would never hate him, but that was the same naïve part that wanted to label them as friends in the first place. Again, it was quickly shut down. No one in their right mind would like him, much less trust him after this was all over. If it was ever over.)

But it hadn't mattered how much effort he put into blocking their strikes, because he second-guessed himself and ignored his gut when it told him there was a fourth person. Which, in this case, turned out to be his best satyr friend by the name of Grover Underwood.

For a scrawny guy, he could really pack a punch.

Or... No, that was a pipe he was hit with, he noticed as he bent down to retrieve his mask. He was hit across the face with a pipe that knocked his mask loose.

You'd think Kronos would have measures to make sure shit like this didn't happen, Percy groused to himself angrily. For an all-powerful titan he sure is an ignorant bastard. 

On second thought, that might be Percy's fault. Wasn't he supposed to have something that attached that gods-awful mask to his face? Yes, now that he thinks of it, he remembered a monster giving him what must have been the godly equivalent of glue. But the thought of keeping that navy blue mask stuck on his face, especially in the quiet of his own "bedroom" (read: cell), made him want to vomit.

So it was his fault all along. Huh. Look at that.

He knew those stupid Fates hated him.

Percy knew he needed to get the mask back on his face before either party, Kronos or his friends, saw him without it on. But it had landed between himself and three pairs of feet a little distance away, obviously the shoes of his three former friends. Picking up the mask meant turning his face towards them.

But it had to be done.

Fearing Grover had already seen to much, as he was closest when the mask was so cruelly ripped off, he pointedly ignored that satyr. He heard the pipe used to knock away the mask clatter to the ground, the gray metal ringing on the concrete of the roof. When he saw Grover's feet shuffle back a step or two in apparently shocked disgust, he knew his cover was blown.

That didn't mean that he suddenly wanted to just turn to the other three and give them a big hug and a grin. If only Grover saw, maybe he could play it off as a mistake, one easy to make when you longed to see your best friend again after he disappeared for weeks. If everyone else saw... Things would get much more complicated.

He pivoted slightly, trying to turn only as much as he needed to in order to see where his mask had fallen. He could've just closed his eyes and looked away, blindly fumbling for it, but that would've left him open to attacks. (Even if Grover had dropped the pipe, that didn't mean the satyr was defenseless.) Plus, he'd look pretty stupid, bent in half and patting the ground awkwardly like it was an enthusiastic dog that had just done a mediocre trick.

Thankfully, his hair was just long enough to block his eyes from view as he leaned down. He tucked his chin in towards his chest, angling his head down so the only thing they might see would be his eyes. But with the wall of hair, there didn't seem to be any probability of that happening.

His fingers quickly found purchase on the dreaded navy blue mask, lifting it up as he carefully stood, trying to turn away so he could replace the mask and still let them retain their blissful ignorance. Better they remember him as a hero, the son of Poseidon, than this.

A traitor.

A coward.

A thief.

A pawn.

All things he used to insist he wasn't. Only now, every single monster in his head was screaming that those harsh voices were right all along.

The Fates really did hate him.

As he tried to figure out what the best angle to turn was, so he wouldn't face the demigods or Grover (again), a breeze slightly stronger than the rest wafted through the seaside air. And his hair, flimsy as it was, swished aside to allow the breeze to bully its way across his face.

His features were exposed, however briefly, to the demigods. He hoped they weren't paying attention.

But then someone (it sounded like a girl- Annabeth? Or Silena?) gasped, a soft intake of breath that let him know that his cover had been blown at least twice.

Shit.

Taking advantage of the shock and their distraction, Percy quickly walked towards the door to the stairs. No footsteps echoed on the pavement behind him, letting him know that they weren't following him (yet). He still had time to save this mission.

"P-Percy?"

He stopped not even a foot in front of the door to the staircase leading to his safe disappearance. One more step, and he could vanish into the shadows the building provided. He wanted to do it. He wanted to just step forwards, letting the darkness overwhelm him and take him away from this mess. (It was a blessing that Kronos hadn't bothered to interact with him yet.)

But his feet refused to move forwards. His brain and his heart knew that voice, knew it better than his own at this point. It was the voice of his favorite daughter of Athena, the voice of the girl that kissed him right before Mount St. Helens blew up and he was lost on Calypso's island. It was the voice of Annabeth Chase.

She said only one word, his name, but it contained so many emotions. Shock, confusion, hurt. But above all, it held desperation.

No one had any right to make Annabeth Chase sound desperate. Much less him. (The traitor, the coward, the thief, the pawn.)

Against his brain's better judgement, his heart made his feet turn around.

 

There were shadows hiding in the lines of the man's face as he turned, but his eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. They were a shade slightly darker than she remembered them being, but she could never mistake those eyes for any others.

"Percy?" Again, she said his name, though this time her tone bordered on frantic. She took a full step forwards, as if to run towards him. He took half a step back, navy blue mask clenched tightly in his fist.

Her brain finally caught up to what was happening. It forced her to remember the man she just threatened on the roof, the man with the image of Kronos's scythe etched upon the navy blue surface of the mask he hid behind. Her eyes took in the son of Poseidon in front of her, trying to merge the two images together. Logically, she knew that those men were one in the same, but this was Percy. Her best friend. He would never...

Beck cut her out of her thought process as he advanced a few steps forwards. For the many he took, Percy took only another half-step back, now fully hidden in the shadows of the stairwell. Throughout the one-sided exchange, Grover had moved closer to the group of demigods, wide eyes never leaving Percy's face.

Annabeth expected the monster posing as Percy to be gone as soon as it reached the shadows where nightmares like it dwelled, but he remained standing there, green eyes staring at them without emotion.

If she hadn't seen him move, she would've guessed that he was a statue.

"Percy, hey man," Beck said softly, moving his hands to his sides. He appeared relaxed, not ready to fight the man that used to be his commanding officer in the demigod army. "Why don't you come back out here so we can talk? I'd love to ask you a few questions about the materials used to make that mask and your sword."

Slowly, Percy looked down at the silver sword still sitting in his left hand, frowning slightly as if he had entirely forgotten he had it unsheathed. After a moment, he looked back up and stared at Beck, unmoving.

The son of Hephaestus shrugged a little. "Ok, or you could just stay there. That's fine too." He shot a look at Silena out of the corner of his eye, the only indication that he was completely unsure as to what he should be doing.

The daughter of Aphrodite stepped up next to her boyfriend, gazing at Percy with a soft, friendly smile. "Hi Percy!" she greeted with a gentle voice. "We've sure missed you back at camp. We tried looking for you, but no one knew where you went. Where have you been?"

He didn't even flinch, avoiding rising to the bait.

Persistently, Silena tried again. "We missed you, Percy. We thought you were dead. I missed you..."

"I missed you too, Perce," Beck added, picking up on Silena's plan.

"Of course I missed you, man," Grover joined in with a forced, sheepish grin. His eyes were still unnaturally wide, his emotions betraying him in the moment where stealth was needed. "And, uh, if I knew it was you in the mask I never would've hit you with that pipe." He winced. "Sorry about that."

Silena took over again, seeing the conversation headed to a dangerous place. "But do you know who spent the most time looking for you?"

Seeing what her friend was hinting at, Annabeth stepped up to join the other three, a few yards from where Percy stood in the doorway to the stairwell. She forced aside her gut feeling that something wasn't right, choosing instead to focus on the relief that soon Percy would be back at camp where he belonged and everything would be (slightly more) right in the world.

She managed a grin, gray eyes locked only on his green ones. "I sent out the search teams for you. It was a full time job."

Her vaguely heard Silena mutter something along the lines of "full time job, my ass. She got no sleep for weeks because she was worried about this idiot."

From the way Percy's eyes flashed over to Silena and then back, Annabeth knew that he somehow heard her too.

"Let's go back to camp, Percy," Silena suggested, throwing in a pinch of charmspeak. "I know everyone will be glad to see you."

"Yeah, man. What do you say?" Grover asked, emotions visibly shifting from suspicion to acceptance.

The emotionless façade of Percy faltered for a moment at the question, the wall falling down and letting Annabeth catch a glimpse of some of his emotions. Sorrow was the most prominent, followed by confusion, hurt, and an overwhelming amount of regret. What did he have to regret?

The others saw this falter as well, because they hesitated a moment. Annabeth took a half-step forwards in their moment of distraction, a small smile pulling at her lips as she repeated Grover's question. "What do you say, Percy?"

The son of Poseidon flinched before the emotionless façade resurfaced. Annabeth frowned slightly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in a rough, scratchy voice that sounded like it had fallen out of use. He reached up, replacing the navy blue mask over his face. Eyes filling with more sorrow than she previously thought possible, Percy raised his sword in the air.

The four friends watched in confusion, wondering what exactly he was doing. He was sorry? For what? He had nothing to be sorry for!

That is, until the giant wave appeared between the two parties. It blocked their view of the son of Poseidon with a wall of water. The last thing Annabeth saw was the wall rushing towards her, and then she knew no more.

 

"Annabeth? Annabeth, can you hear me?"

Sputtering, the daughter of Athena cracked open a bleary gray eye and looked around. A frowning girl leaned over her, loose strands of dark hair tumbling from her head and creating a soft shield from the persistent sunlight that filtered through gaps in her hair. When she saw Annabeth looking up at her, she smiled in relief.

"Thank the gods," she muttered, sitting back on her heels and disappearing from Annabeth's view. "Guys, Annabeth's awake!"

She heard what sounded like two pairs of footsteps, one pair soft and the other clunky, hurrying towards her.

"Annabeth!" someone bleated before a boy's face appeared in her line of sight. His normally curly hair was flattened by moisture, easily exposing the two small horns settled atop his head. A dark hand appeared on the boy's shoulder, pulling him not roughly out of sight.

"Give her space," a rich voice suggested, followed by muttered grumblings.

Annabeth groaned, rubbing a heavy hand across her face as she attempted to sit up. Suddenly, she noticed that her entire body was damp, like she had taken a swim fully clothed and forgotten to dry off. "What happened?"

No one answered her, causing Annabeth to open her eyes fully in the blinding light of day, staring at her three friends. Silena carefully avoided eye contact, pushing her still-flawless black hair out of her face. Beck kneeled on the concrete next to her, face stony and without expression. Grover looked uncomfortable, fidgeting in his spot every few seconds. Annabeth knew that if she was going to get anybody to crack, it would be Grover.

"Grover?" she asked, voice holding an aura of irritation and barely masked confusion. Annabeth Chase did not enjoy being confused. "What happened?"

The satyr gulped, glancing quickly at Silena and Beckendorf, who both shook their heads in a silence attempt to dissuade the satyr from speaking. Annabeth narrowed her eyes at all three before they stopped, their deadly glare locked on Grover.

"Grover. What happened." No longer was it posed as a question.

He swallowed hard, this time ignoring the more frantic shaking heads. Gaze favoring the concrete ground of the roof, he answered her timidly. "I... We... We woke up in a giant puddle. Beck was the first one awake, and he woke up Silena who woke me up before trying to wake you up. It was already day, the sun already out."

"That doesn't tell me what happened," Annabeth said with a frown. "I want to know what happened before we all took a nap on the roof."

Grover opened his mouth to speak, but someone beat him to it.

"Percy."

Annabeth whipped her head around to stare at Silena, who looked back with a sullen gaze. "What?"

"Percy happened," she repeated with a sad frown. "We all remembered seeing him last night, remembered trying to convince him to come back to camp. And then he made a wall of water..." She looked away from Annabeth briefly before glancing back with eyes full of sorrow. "Annabeth, he tried to drown us."

"No!" the daughter of Athena was quick to protest. "If... If he wanted us drowned, we'd all be dead already!"

Beck shook his head. "How else do you want us to interpret that, Annabeth? None of us want to believe that Percy would... That our friend would..."

"Betray us?" Annabeth finished for him, incredulous. She looked around at their faces, all of which were long with grief. "Percy would never do that! Not the Percy I know! Not the Percy we know! That had to have been a monster there, a monster posing as Percy-"

"Which also just so happens to have his powers over water?" Silena interrupted. "I'm sorry, Annabeth, but I don't know of any monsters with powers over water that are able to survive on land and shapeshift."

The daughter of Athena stared at one of her best friends for a solid minute before her gray eyes desperately sought out Percy's best friend. "Grover, you can't possibly believe their ideas! Percy would never-"

"After what we saw, Annabeth," Grover said in a soft, mournful voice, "I don't really know how I can believe otherwise. I don't want to believe that my best friend would ever even consider joining Kronos, but..." He sighed. "We have to prepare for a much harder battle without the son of Poseidon on our side."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update should be on or around Wednesday!


	13. Chapter 13

Third Person POV

The daughter of Athena stared at one of her best friends for a solid minute before her gray eyes desperately sought out Percy's best friend. "Grover, you can't possibly believe their ideas! Percy would never-"

"After what we saw, Annabeth," Grover said in a soft, mournful voice, "I don't really know how I can believe otherwise. I don't want to believe that my best friend would ever even consider joining Kronos, but..." He sighed. "We have to prepare for a much harder battle without the son of Poseidon on our side."

 

"I thought I told you that if you saw any demigods, you were not to engage."

Percy stood back in that hideous, green-lit room, eyes cast to the floor as the titan of time watched him closely.

"Do you remember when I said that, Apprentice?" Kronos asked, tone icy.

Percy was smart enough to nod, keeping his lips pressed tightly together and his newly-rediscovered voice locked away.

"And what did you do when you saw the demigods? Did you engage?"

Clearly it was a trick question, a question whose sole purpose was to make Percy's no-doubt-short life as miserable as possible, but he had no choice but to nod anyways.

Kronos narrowed his golden eyes, Ethan's face screwing up with barely contained fury. "You did engage!" He spat, taking a few quick steps closer and narrowing the thin margin of distance between himself and the son of Poseidon. "I saw you engage the demigods! What were you expecting to happen, Apprentice?" Percy's appointed title was no more than a hiss between clenched teeth, spat as if a despicable curse.

Percy happened to think that, if this was ever over, he'd never be able to hear the word "apprentice" again. He also happened to think that he'd hear it nearly every night regardless, when his tormentor visited him in his nightmares.

"Were you expecting that they'd help you?" Kronos asked, tone mocking and full of disbelief, as if the very idea of someone helping Percy was laughable. And for all that he'd done, Percy couldn't stop himself from agreeing. "Were you expecting they'd save you from the big, scary titan? What, are you too much of a coward to face me yourself? You need two girls, a son of Hephaestus, and a pathetic satyr to do the rescuing for you?"

With Kronos nearly two feet away from the son of Poseidon, Percy had to physically stop himself from reaching over and punching the titan in Ethan's scowling face.

"Grover is more of a hero than you or any of your followers will ever be!" He wanted to shout.

"Beckendorf has more strategy and heart than all of your monsters combined!" He begged to scream.

"Silena has more bravery than your entire army of lying monsters and traitorous demigods!" He desired to yell.

"Annabeth is worth more to me and to the world than any single person in this compound!" He died to shriek. "Including myself."

However, unfortunately, Percy restrained himself. For the moment. There would come a time in which Kronos would get what he deserved, but that time was not now.

Especially since part of the titan's words were correct. "Too much of a coward..." He had called Percy a coward. He was a coward.

(A traitor, a coward, a thief, a pawn.)

At least in that regard, that twisted monster was right.

And if those words didn't taste like poison...

"Do you think there's some way that you can get out of this?" Kronos hissed, taking another half-step closer to his prisoner. "You and I both know what will happen if you ever even attempt to leave. I'll kill those four faster than you can blink, their dead corpses sitting on the ground for you to see, knowing it was all your fault. Maybe I would show mercy, killing them quickly, like the bothersome flies they are. Or maybe, just to torment you, I'll draw it out. Kill them slowly, one by one, until they're all gasping on the floor, staring up at you in your mask, the mask I gave you, and they're wondering why you aren't falling down too. And you'll drop to your knees besides them, besides that daughter of Athena you're so fond of, and you'll grab her hands in her final moments, if only just to be closer to her. Then, with the last of her strength, she'll part her lips slightly and whisper, 'This is all your fault.' And their last breaths that they take lying on the ground, their skin illuminated from within due to my nanobugs, will follow you for the rest of your miserable life."

Percy wanted to vomit. He wanted to vomit and he wanted to cry and he wanted to scream but most of all he wanted to punch Kronos in his goddamn smirking face, just to share some of the torment he was already putting Percy through. Was his only goal here to make the son of Poseidon as miserable as possible? Because, if so, it was working. Goddamn it, it was working and Percy didn't know how much longer he could handle this before he snapped like an old, used rubber band.

He was going to die here.

Maybe not at the moment, but he was going to die here. That much was certain.

Kronos examined the face of his apprentice, smirk widening as he glimpsed the horror and disgust hidden in those green eyes peering through the holes of the navy blue mask. Suddenly, the smirk disappeared and Kronos leaned into the minimal personal space Percy had left, face devoid of any emotion except rage.

"But that won't have to happen, Apprentice," he spat, spraying droplets of spittle onto Percy's face (he tried hard not to flinch, as that would only encourage the titan), "because next time you encounter those demigods, I'll be there to tell you what to do. And if you don't do exactly as I say..." He left the threat floating in the humid air between them like a fishing line cast too far from the dock, where it was about to get prayed on by a shark.

Percy did flinch at that, as much as he tried to squash the urge.

Seeing the instinctual flinch of his apprentice, Kronos's smirk reappeared. He leaned back, letting Percy breathe a small sigh that he thought Kronos wouldn't see. The titan turned halfway, as if to leave the room, when he spun back around and sank a fist into Percy's stomach.

The demigod bent in half, his breath leaving him in a whoosh, eyes squeezing shut as if to protect himself from witnessing more of his own abuse. Therefore, he didn't see the kick aimed for the back of his knees, sending him sprawling onto the cold ground, or the stomp that crushed his right ankle.

He fought the urge to cry out, knowing that would only make the titan attack him harder. Instead, Percy curled into himself, trying to avoid the voice in his head that told him to stand up and fight, goddamn it! But that would only get him, and his friends, killed.

Kronos looked down at his apprentice, who shook slightly on the floor despite attempts to will his body not to. Not once in his attack did the smirk on his lips falter, and now it only grew. "Pick yourself up, Apprentice. We continue your training in an hour."

The sound of retreating footsteps told Percy that Kronos was (finally) exiting the room. He listened, hearing them still just shy of the doorway. He cursed under his breath, wondering what exactly that malicious beast would want with him now. There was supposedly an hour to pick himself up!

"Your next mission is in five days," Kronos stated, smirk never fading. Right before he left the room, he grabbed the slightly-smushed cardboard box Percy delivered to him, which had been sitting in the demigod's backpack near the door, and felt its weight in his large hands. "It best end better than this one."

 

"Percy Jackson is an enemy of Olympus."

Confused stares followed this announcement as Beckendorf stood in front of the assembled cabin leaders in the Big House rec room. The son of Hephaestus frowned deeply, fighting off any emotion that threatened to overwhelm him as he thought of one of his close friends lying to them this entire time.

"I'm sorry," Katie Gardner from the Demeter cabin spoke up, raising her hand slightly as she frowned, "but I think I heard you incorrectly. Did you actually say a Peter Johnson, or someone? Or is this just a trick, Beck? Don't tell us that Mr. D put you up to messing up the names."

Someone grumbled something along the lines of, "Not again."

The son of Hephaestus sighed, shoulders threatening to sag as the weight of his words tried to push him down. But he needed to remain strong, for himself, for the camp, and most of all, for Annabeth.

Gods, Annabeth needed all the strength anyone could give her now.

"I'm afraid you heard me correctly, Katie. Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, has been declared an enemy of Olympus."

"This has to be a mistake!" All eyes shot over to Travis Stoll from the Hermes cabin, sitting next to his brother, Connor. Even Connor looked surprised by his brother's outburst. The son of Hermes shuffled to his feet, leg still sore and stiff from the injury that landed him in the infirmary a few weeks ago. He could've used nectar or ambrosia to fully heal it by now, but the godly food was being saved for when the next battle began. They'd need all the help they could get against Kronos.

Beck tried to calm Travis down before he hurt himself, urging in a low voice, "There is no mistake, I was an eye witness."

"An eye witness to what, Beck?" This came from Clarisse LaRue, seated at the seat of Ares. She crossed her thick arms over her chest, glaring at the son of Hephaestus with her brown eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, you've told us only jack-shit so far."

"Clarisse!" Chiron scolded lightly, frowning as he attempted to reprimand the daughter of Ares. "I'm sure Charles will elaborate."

The son of Hephaestus nodded his thanks to the old centaur before turning back to face the rest of the confused, alarmed campers. He told his eyes not to linger on the downcast head of blonde curls. "Thank you, Chiron. As most of you know, I went with three others to investigate a break-in at one of Lord Poseidon's warehouses near the bay."

Several heads nodded, including a grudging nod from Clarisse.

"We were told that Kronos and his forces were attempting to steal something from the warehouse. And although we do not know what was taken, we do know who took it."

"It couldn't have been Percy!" Travis argued, already seeing where Beckendorf was going with his story. "He would never betray Olympus!"

Beck stared at the distraught son of Hermes for a moment, a sympathetic frown settled on his features. "There's nothing I want more than to believe that Percy was not there, on that rooftop where we cornered Kronos's minion. The man we chased was wearing a navy blue mask to hide his face, but the brave satyr, Grover, was able to knock it off with a surprise attack."

Clarisse raised both her eyebrows at that, looking at the blushing satyr near the door with something akin to respect.

"As the mask fell to the ground, Grover was able to get a clear look at the man's face."

All eyes shifted back to the satyr at Beck's statement, causing his blush to deepen. Katie looked at Grover earnestly, leaning forwards slightly in her seat as she asked, "Who was it, Grover?"

Everyone silently prayed that he'd say any name other than that of Percy Jackson.

The satyr looked down at the ping pong table, frowning deeply as tears flooded his eyes. Wiping a hand across his eyes, he sniffled once before saying in a shaky voice, "I... He-he looked like Percy."

A brief moment of shocked silence followed, everyone shocked by the words even if they had been expecting them all along.

"... You said 'looked'," Connor noted, casting a glance at his brother out of the corner of his eye. "Could it be possible that it wasn't actually Percy?"

Grover shrugged helplessly, causing Beck to intervene.

"At that point, it looked like it could've been any monster disguised as our 'loyal' friend. We attempted to talk to him, which only caused him to run away. He had almost disappeared when Annabeth spoke."

All eyes looked at Annabeth, who kept her head down as if she couldn't feel their stares on her. They honestly didn't matter to her; none of them were Percy. Why didn't anyone believe her when she said that she believed in him?

Sensing some of their confusion, Silena tried to explain Percy's motives. "He didn't run away because he loves her," she said softly. "I'm a daughter of Aphrodite; when someone loves, I can tell."

Beck nodded at his girlfriend with a small smile matching the one on her face, picking up the tale. "He let us talk to him for a moment more, before we started to ask him to return to camp with us. I don't think it had clicked in our heads that he was the one wearing that mask, the mask of Kronos's minion.

"Annabeth took a step forwards, then Percy spoke for the first time. His voice was a whisper, but it was still clearly his." Here, Beck hesitated, exchanging glances with Silena and Grover and looking at Annabeth with a worried expression on his face. Did he dare continue his story?

"What did he say, Beck?" Katie Gardner asked, face having grown pale throughout the tale's unfolding.

Silena nodded slightly, causing Beck to sigh. "'I'm sorry,' he whispered to us."

There was a pause as they waited for the son of Hephaestus to continue. When it didn't appear that he would, Clarisse asked with a scowl, "What did he have to be sorry for?"

"That's what I was wondering," Beckendorf admitted, "until he summoned a giant wave and nearly drowned us."

Silence followed in the wake of this announcement, no one knowing how to react. People blinked up at Beck, as if waiting for him to laugh and claim it was a hilarious joke the whole time. Others stared at the table, wondering if they had ever seen the signs of Percy being evil but hadn't paid heed to it before.

Finally, Travis Stoll spoke up. "... There's no other monsters that have water powers," he murmured sadly, as if he had wracked his mind to come up with a logical explanation.  
"He's a son of Poseidon, though!" Katie tried to defend. "His fatal flaw should be loyalty!"

Clarisse scowled darkly. She would never admit it, but she trusted that Kelp Head. Knowing he was a liar, a traitor... Clarisse LaRue did not trust easily. "Who said we ever had his loyalty to begin with? He might've been working for Kronos before we even met him."

No one tried to defend the son of Poseidon again. They all wallowed in their silence, too lost in their thoughts to notice that Annabeth was quickly becoming consumed in hers.  
"I think you're all despicable!" The daughter of Athena finally shouted, standing up abruptly and knocking her chair over. It hit the back wall of the rec room with a bang, causing all the cabin leaders to flinch. "Percy would never do anything to hurt any of us! He was our friend and now that it looks like he might be gone, you're ready to give him up? I am disgusted! And to think, that he called you people his friends."

Silena reached over as if to put a comforting, well-manicured hand on Annabeth's shoulder, but the distraught girl was gone from the room before anyone else could react. They stared after her for a moment, taking in the swinging door to the rec room and the confused campers peeking in from the outside.

Beck turned back to the counselors. "Don't tell the younger campers yet, but as of right now, Percy Jackson is an enemy of Olympus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect the next chapter around Monday of next week!


	14. Chapter 14

Third Person POV

Silena reached over as if to put a comforting, well-manicured hand on Annabeth's shoulder, but the distraught girl was gone from the room before anyone else could react. They stared after her for a moment, taking in the swinging door to the rec room and the confused campers peeking in from the outside.

Beck turned back to the counselors. "Don't tell the younger campers yet, but as of right now, Percy Jackson is an enemy of Olympus."

 

Luke Castellan had many regrets in life. He regretted not trying to help his mother by finding his father,he regretted running away from home when things got too tough, and he regretted walking away from his father when he had the first chance to make amends. He regretted forming such close ties with Thalia and Annabeth when they were on the run, he regretted leaving Thalia behind when she said she could fight off the monsters on Half Blood Hill, and he regretted letting her die there. He regretted listening to the whispers Kronos put in his head at night, he regretted stealing that lightning bolt from Zeus, and he regretted running away from another home, this time leaving behind not his needy mother but his half-siblings and his semi-adopted younger sister, Annabeth.

Gods, he regretted leaving Camp Half Blood.

But the thing he regretted most of all was joining Kronos.

If only it wasn't too late to go back to camp, he would've already been in the Hermes cabin with his half-siblings, joking around or pranking somebody (but never Annabeth).

But it was too late, so instead of doing that, Luke Castellan sat in his room amongst Kronos's army (a small room with a thin bed elevated off the ground, a small locked fridge that held ambrosia and nectar, and a dirty toilet in the corner- already more than what most others here had) and tried not to think too deeply about where he went wrong.

Yes, he did go wrong in life. His brain was trying to convince him of how he could go right.

Luke wasn't sure if Kronos remembered he was there when he nearly killed Annabeth for the first time. The son of Hermes couldn't forget the way her skin glowed orange, the way she fell down in the sand (and gods, Grover used to be his friend, too, right?), the way she nearly died. Every night, in his nightmares, he heard Percy cursing, growling at the titan and he thought, "Maybe this time Kronos will be stopped." But every night, he hears, "As long as you don't hurt my friends," and it's not right because Percy Jackson was supposed to be so much stronger than Luke Castellan but now here they are.

Prisoners. Traitors.

Cowards, and liars, and thieves, and pawns.

Pawns in a crooked game of chess played between their parents and Kronos where they have it rigged so no one wins and as many people lose as is possible.

Luke was tired of losing. He was tired of being the prisoner, tired of being the traitor and the coward and the liar and the thief. And gods, was he tired of being the pawn.

He was just so goddamn tired.

And all he wanted was to go home.

So was it really all his fault that he snuck out of his room one afternoon, when Kronos had put the training wing on lockdown, and scurried into the same room where he watched Kronos torture his best friend? The green lighting was the same (everything was always the same), but thankfully the image of Annabeth's face trapped in an expression of pain was gone from the screen.

That didn't mean it was gone from his head.

The room was nearly empty, as it almost always was, except for the figure curled up on the ground. He wore all black, the color absorbing all the light that dared go near him, even in the colored lighting of the room. A little ways away from the figure, a mask sat upturned on the ground, as if it had been thrown there in a fit of rage. Carefully, Luke picked it up, staring into the space in its navy blue surface where the eyes usually peered out of. He shivered, averting his gaze quickly.

He shuffled forwards until he was only a step or two away from the man curled on the ground. His footsteps were silent, but he had no doubt that the man knew he was there. Luke bent forwards, leaning over the man, and placed the mask in front of him.

"When he said you had an hour until training began, he meant exactly one hour," Luke shared, hands resting on his knees as he looked at the figure which hadn't reacted to his words.

"If I were you, I would've already stood up and stretched. He might come back early," he advised, to no avail.

Luke stared at the prone form, a part of him wondering if Kronos had finally killed him. But no, he chided himself. Kronos wouldn't kill Perseus Jackson of all people. That's probably why he stormed off in such a hurry, so the titan could find some expendable monsters to kill instead. He wouldn't ruin everything by killing the child of the prophecy.

Right?

The voice in his head insisting that Percy was dead, Luke stretched out a foot and tapped the figure's shoulder with his toe. No response. Pursing his lips, he bent down slightly.

"Are you dead?"

There was a beat of silence, before Luke's ears picked up a soft, muttered answer. "I wish."

Relieved, the son of Hermes huffed out a laugh as he stood up straight. "You and me both. You and me both."

Now that the son of Poseidon had responded, Luke leaned back against one of the walls of the green-tinted room and pretended to be completely at ease. Any second now, Percy would be standing (or at least sitting) up, ready to talk. Or maybe just listen. He wouldn't complain about listening.

Sure enough, a moment later, Percy rolled himself over until his butt was placed flat on the ground and his head was resting on his knees. He let out a small groan as he moved, the abuse from his tormentor still more than evident. Percy squeezed his green eyes shut, not wanting to see the no-doubt-smug face of Kronos's right hand man.

"Here, you might want to have some of this," the voice of Luke Castellan said above Percy's head. He kept his eyes screwed shut for another few seconds before the curiosity became too much to bear. What did Luke want to torture him with now?

Percy's green eyes flickered open to see a pale hand stretched out towards him. Sitting in the palm of said hand sat a small, raggedly piece of ambrosia.

"It doesn't look to appetizing, I know, but it's the best I could get," Luke apologized. "I would've brought more, but-"

He stopped mid-sentence as a tanned hand came and snatched the godly food from his palm, scarfing it down in seconds. Percy let out a small moan of relief as the food started to heal him, all while the taste of his mother's homemade blue cookies lingered on his tongue.

Through the bliss, the image of his mother flashed before his eyes. Oh gods, what must she think? What had anyone told her? She had to be out of her mind with worry and panic. Gods, he hoped his father at least went to tell her himself. Or maybe Annabeth. His mom seemed to really like Annabeth. Part of him wondered what that was all about and when that had even happened, but it was drowned out by the part that feared his mother would hate him, too, now. After all, everyone else already hated him. What had they told her?

Luke shook him from his thoughts before he could travel further into his self-hatred and questions. "Is that any better?"

Percy nodded cautiously, suddenly remembering that Luke was an enemy. His sympathy had to be faked, but why? To get him to lower his guard to Luke could swoop in and then murder everyone he loves? How could the son of Hermes do that to Beck and Silena, who he knew from camp? How could he do that to Grover, to Thalia? To Annabeth?

Could he do that?

Of course he could. He summoned some kind of pit scorpion to kill Percy; he wouldn't think twice about killing anyone else.

Percy watched with a guarded expression as Luke nodded back in what seemed like satisfaction. (Was the ambrosia poisoned? Could ambrosia even be poisoned?) "That's good. You can't be in terrible shape during training, otherwise that'll end kinda like your 'debriefing' ended. And that's with you curled up on the floor, trying to stop yourself from getting kicked and punched." Luke paused. "Can you stand?"

Again, the son of Poseidon nodded.

Luke looked at him oddly. "You can speak, you know. I know that Kronos would prefer if you didn't, but I don't mind. It'd be nice hearing someone speak other than myself and Kronos."

Percy stared at him blankly, not making a move to even open his mouth to reply.

"... Or not." Luke shrugged. "Fine. Do you need a hand up?"

Instead of nodding or shaking his head, Percy stood up himself. Then immediately regretted it when he swayed dangerously to the side. Huh, looks like the ambrosia hadn't fully kicked in yet. He waited to feel his body crash into the floor, when two hands grabbed his arms to steady him.

He opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) to stare at Luke with a frown. Before he could stop himself, he asked in a raspy voice, "Why'd you do that?"

To give him credit, Luke didn't even react to the question. Nor did he remove his hands from Percy's arms, trying to make sure that the son of Poseidon wouldn't keel over the second he let go. "Can't have you wasting all my ambrosia by getting yourself hurt again."

Percy's frown deepened. "Well, why'd you do that? I didn't ask for that."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "I didn't see you complaining when you made it disappear in two seconds flat." Seeing Percy avert his eyes, Luke sighed softly and said, "Plus, both of us don't need to be stuck here in hell. You need to get back to camp."

Percy's eyebrows shot up. Back to camp? Had he heard that right? He thought Luke betrayed camp to join Kronos. Why would he want to send Percy back there? This had to be some kind of trick.

"I know what it must sound like to you," Luke said, "but I swear this isn't some kind of trick." Was he a mind reader? "I just want to go home."

"Me too."

"I know," Luke chuckled weakly, offering a small, bitter grin. "But you can go home. I can't. So the least I can do is make sure you make it home."

"How?" Percy dared to ask. Even though he knew that he was just opening himself up for heartbreak when Luke stabbed him in the back, he couldn't help but wonder.

"Kronos trusts me. I can sneak you out, but it has to be before your next mission. Before you dig yourself deeper in the hole and we're both trapped here forever."

Percy stared at the son of Hermes for a long moment, mulling over his words. Finally, he asked, "How can I trust you?"

Luke grinned. "You can't, but if you want to get home, you have to."

 

"The Council of Olympus is officially called to order," Zeus announced, slamming a lightning bolt onto the marble floor of the throne room. The assembled immortals rolled their eyes.

"Not that I don't love getting together with everyone, but some of us are kind of busy," Hermes groused from his throne, typing something on his cell phone. "Why are we gathered?"

Poseidon cleared his throat, causing everyone to stop momentarily and look at the sea god. "As you all know, my son went missing recently."

"We know," Ares muttered angrily. "That little punk gave us nothing but trouble before, and I'm enjoying the quiet. Why are we looking for him?"

The sea god narrowed his eyes, glaring at the god of war. "Because he is my son and he is the child of the prophecy," he growled, causing Ares to look as ashamed as he could.

"We know that Perseus is missing, Poseidon," Athena said, drawing her rival's attention back to the others. "Has he been found?"

Poseidon's anger left him in one fell swoop, leaving him slouching in defeat. "Not exactly."

"Not exactly? What does that mean?" Dionysus asked with a frown.

Poseidon sighed. "Last night, one of my warehouses on the bay was broken into and robbed."

"What does this have anything to do with-"

"Shut up, Apollo."

The sun god frowned. "That's not how you talk to your older brother!"

"For goodness sake, Apollo, I am older! Why do you always insist that-"

"The warehouse," Poseidon said loudly, drawing attention back to him. Apollo stuck his tongue out at his sister, Artemis, who rolled her eyes. "The warehouse in mention was the sole holding place of a very rare material I was shipping to Atlantis."

"And let me guess, someone stole this rare material?"

Poseidon nodded. "That is correct, Hephaestus. But that is not all. A group of demigods from Camp Half Blood went to investigate as soon as I got a distress call from the warehouse, and they were able to find the robber and corner him on the roof."

"Who was it?" Artemis asked, leaning forwards in her throne, engrossed in the mystery.

Poseidon opened his mouth to answer, while at the same time Athena gasped in realization. "Perseus."

Everyone stared at the wisdom goddess in shock, except for Poseidon, who sighed softly and let his head sink into his hands. He tried to push the tears away, but his powers found their limits when it came to the salty water spilling from his eyes.

Apollo coughed self-consciously (and if that wasn't an example of how shocked he was, Poseidon didn't know what was) to get everyone's attention. "I'm sorry, but did you say Perseus? As in, Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon and returner of Zeus's lightning bolt and finder of the golden fleece and the only male my little sis tolerates after that whole thing with Atlas? That Perseus? Or are we talking about the son of Zeus, Perseus, that died eons ago back in ancient Greece?"

Artemis frowned at the Apollo's comment of her tolerating the son of Poseidon, but didn't say anything about it. Instead, she furrowed her brow and looked at her half-sister. "Athena, not that I question your wisdom, but would that not go against his fatal flaw? I doubt Perseus would be capable of-"

"It's true."

All eyes shifted towards the sea god, sitting in his throne near that of Zeus. Slowly, the king of Atlantis lifted his head and looked at the other Olympians with red-rimmed green eyes. He cleared his throat in an attempt to dispel any roughness it would've gathered from his sorrow, before repeating his words with defeat evident in his voice. "It's true."

"How can you be sure?" Hephaestus asked immediately, frowning deeply at the despair wafting off the son of Kronos. "Perhaps it was a monster cleverly disguised, so well disguised that it confused even the demigods sent to capture the thief?"

Poseidon shook his head. "I wish it would be so, but I had cameras in place on the rooftop as well. Cameras you designed, Hephaestus, so I know the image on them was true. I watched the mask fall off the robber's face, revealing that of my son. I hoped as you did, that it was a monster, until..."

They waited a moment, hoping he would continue his tale without prompt. When it appeared otherwise, Zeus surprised them all by speaking to his brother in a tone that bordered on gentle. "Until what, brother?"

Poseidon sniffled loudly, wiping a hand across his eyelids. Swallowing hard, he finished in a sad voice, "Until he conjured a wave and tried to drown the demigods."

The throne room erupted in chaos, voices attempting to shout over each other. Ares declared that he had never liked that punk, and they all should've listened to him years ago when he first entered the camp. Artemis screamed of men and their treachery, while Apollo tried to calm her. Athena shouted for peace, but no one listened to her. (It was a rare occasion when they did.) Zeus watched it playing out, occasionally mentioning to himself that he had never trusted that boy. Poseidon sat on his throne, distraught, listening to all his fellow Olympians turn on their great, praised hero.

Finally, someone had enough. "Stop!" they shrieked over the echo of the others voices. Immediately, everyone fell silent.

Aphrodite pouted, eyes narrowed, and swiped a hair back into place (not that it was ever out of place, but it added emphasis, so she thought). "Thank you," she said sarcastically, before locking her color-changing eyes on Poseidon. "But that's impossible."

He sighed heavily. "Aphrodite, I know what I saw and-"

"And I know what I saw," she interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest. "My daughter was one of the demigods to go check out that warehouse of yours. Just ask Dionysus if you don't believe me."

Sure enough, when Poseidon looked questioningly at the wine god, he nodded guiltily.

"Silena went, and so did Beck. Oh, those two are adorable! I swear, I didn't even interfere with their match, it was just so perfect and-"

"You were saying?" Athena stopped the goddess of love with a raised eyebrow, wondering how the goddess of beauty could know more than she did.

"Oh, yes," Aphrodite gushed, blushing attractively. "Silena, Beck, Grover Underwood, and Annabeth Chase all went to the warehouse. And you say that Perseus tried to drown them all?"

Poseidon frowned, questioning the goddess's purpose in sharing this. "Yes, I saw the footage. He conjured a massive wave which left them gasping on the rooftop."

"Ah!" she grinned, as if Poseidon had just answered a tricky riddle. "He didn't try to drown them. If he did, they would've been dead. But he wouldn't try to drown them, anyways, because Miss Chase was there."

"And what does my daughter have to do with anything?" Athena asked, frown clearly evident even from afar.

Aphrodite rolled her eyes. "Sometimes, you are obtuse, Athena. He loves her, and she loves him. He would never try to hurt her, not unless he had no option. Therefore, for him to do that, he had to be protecting her from something much worse."

"Like what?" Artemis challenged, not sure if she could trust the man's motives after being told he was an agent of Kronos.

The goddess of love shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not usually the one that comes up with this stuff. I'm just saying, maybe he has a motive other than the whole 'the gods suck, I'll join Kronos' idea that all the others seem to have."

With Aphrodite's piece said, everyone looked back to Poseidon. He continued to stare at her with a mix of hope and defeat, as if he was too tired to dare believe that his son might not be gone from him forever. All the evidence was against him, however, and Poseidon didn't know what to think.

Zeus had to make a decision. Sighing briefly in sympathy for his brother, he sat straight on his throne and boomed, "From this moment on, Perseus Jackson must be declared an enemy of Olympus! As with any of Kronos's other agents, if he is found, he is to be killed on sight! Meeting adjourned."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update should be out this weekend, probably Saturday! Thanks! :)


	15. Chapter 15

Third Person POV

Zeus had to make a decision. Sighing briefly in sympathy for his brother, he sat straight on his throne and boomed, "From this moment on, Perseus Jackson must be declared an enemy of Olympus! As with any of Kronos's other agents, if he is found, he is to be killed on sight! Meeting adjourned."

 

In retrospect, running away from the counselor meeting where they were discussing the fate of her best friend probably wasn't Annabeth's best idea. (Granted, it wasn't as bad as some of the ones Percy had come up with on some of their quests, but it wasn't her best moment either. She certainly wouldn't want her mother to see her right about now.)

But Annabeth didn't know what to do with the emotions surging through her. She felt like she was burning up, but at the same time freezing to death. It was like she had a fever and the chills all at once and her body couldn't decide what to do.

So she ran.

Again, not the smartest decision.

She ran through the camp, ignoring people calling to her as she hurried by.

"Annabeth, what's wrong?"

"Where are you going?"

"Is there an attack?"

"Have they found Percy?"

She nearly stopped and answered Miranda's question, but she told herself to keep going. After all, what would the answer to her question be? Had they found Percy? Who was that imposter on the roof?

That wasn't her Percy, she knew that much.

But still, things just didn't add up. It appeared to be Perseus Jackson, since no other monster could mimic his water powers like that. But if he had really turned to the other side, why hadn't he just killed them? Was he feeling sentimental and nostalgic for when he was pretending to be their friend? Luke didn't pull his punches when he encountered the demigods, not even Thalia and Annabeth. Why would Percy?

It didn't make any sense.

In a daze, Annabeth entered her cabin and threw herself down on her bed like a distraught Disney princess. Even if that wasn't Percy on the roof, they weren't any closer to finding him. And if that was him on the roof, they weren't any closer to bringing him home.

Assuming Camp Half Blood was ever his home in the first place.

 

"Again," Kronos commanded, eyes narrowed as he watched his apprentice work.

Percy had to bite his tongue to stop a retort, because if he spoke against the titan now of all times, then Kronos would know that he wasn't as loyal as he pretended to be. And if Kronos even suspected that his apprentice wasn't happy working for the king of the titans, then Luke's plan would be ruined. And neither one of them would be able to walk away from Kronos unscathed.

Sweat dripping down his face, Percy focused on the water he had levitating in front of him. Apparently, Kronos enjoyed using the green-lit room for both torture and training (weren't they the same thing?) because the eerie lighting made the ball of water looked wicked. Obeying the titan's command, Percy slowly froze the ball through, until he had an ice sphere floating before him.

Kronos eyed the creation for a moment, poking it with his finger as it to test its strength. When it didn't burst into snow or liquid or ice shards at his touch, the titan nodded in satisfaction. "Melt it."

Percy suppressed a sigh of relief. As he had come to realize during his training with Kronos over the past four days, it was much easier to melt something that was ice than freeze something that was liquid. Not that Kronos cared. No, he made Percy freeze and unfreeze a ball of water, while levitating it, until the son of Poseidon felt like collapsing. And even then, it was a still a gamble as to whether or not Kronos would have mercy and let him stop.

More often than not, the titan decided that although training was over, the room was still in need of use. (As he had mentioned, the green-lit room was used for only two things: training and torture.) Never let it be said that Kronos was an unfair man. (King. Immortal. Titan. Whatever.) At least he made sure that the uses of the room were balanced. For every day of training, there was time for his other objective.

Sometimes Luke was there. Not during the training, otherwise he would've been killed long ago. Kronos regularly had Percy flood the entire room, summoning water from the air itself. No, Luke couldn't watch the training. But on occasion, Kronos decided that it would be good for his right-hand-man to see how lucky he was to be on Kronos's side. Or, at least Kronos's good side. (However temporary that may be.)

And as rare as it was, sometimes Kronos forgot that Luke was in the room. The titan would finish his session was Percy (sometimes it was physical torment, sometimes it was mental, but the worst was the emotional) and he would forget to call Luke out of the room with him as he left. Kronos had a habit of leaving after a particularly good session to let himself linger in the high of Percy's screams and begs.

After one of these rare occasions of Kronos forgetting Luke, the son of Hermes would rush over to the son of Poseidon and help him to his feet. (Percy was never standing by the end of the session.) He would attempt to do damage control, which was much easier for the physical than the mental torment. And as hard as Luke tried, he couldn't fully fix the damage left from the emotional torture. (One could only re-watch the video of their loved ones nearly dying so many times before something inside them breaks.) But it was always the promise of escape and freedom that brought Percy back from whatever hell his mind was trapped in.

They needed to get out of there.

With the ball of water returned to its liquid form, Percy spared a moment to wipe the dripping sweat from his eyes. He looked over to the titan inside of Ethan's body, hiding an expression of disgust that naturally wanted to arise when looking at his tormentor.

Soon. Soon, he and Luke would be out of this hell.

Percy blinked, only to open his eyes and see Kronos staring intently at him with those hideous golden eyes. Repressing a shudder, Percy carefully looked anywhere other than those two shining orbs. He couldn't be making eye contact with his jailer, it only made the next session all the harder. (And it didn't matter if that next session would be in the training or the torture variety; it was pretty much the same either way.)

"Wipe that sweat off your face, Apprentice," Kronos finally demanded, looking at the son of Poseidon. Percy did as commanded, wondering faintly why now of all times Kronos decided that he didn't want to see that gods awful navy blue mask. It was still sitting on Percy's bed (read: cot) in his room (read: cell), mocking him even when he was rooms away.

Although he relished in the chance to be rid of that mask for more than a few solitary minutes at a time, he despised the fact that now Kronos could see his expressions, his exhaustion. Not a chance to hide himself now.

Kronos studied Percy for another long moment, lip quirking up at the right and pulling his lips into a smirk. "I don't think you can stand another training exercise right now," he mocked, sneering. "Dispose of that water in the bucket."

Trying not to sigh in relief, Percy sent the floating ball of water into a gray bucket sitting against the wall. Usually, it wasn't used for anything after that singular training session, seeing as how Kronos made him summon more water each training session. It was left there as a safety precaution. More than a few times, Kronos has gone a little too far in the following session of abuse, leaving Percy without means of healing himself. If he's desperate, he can dump the bucket of water on himself, even if he has to crawl to it. And when Luke stays behind, he can also help heal Percy.

With the training session officially over, Percy watched Kronos with slightly-narrowed, suspicious eyes. Right now, he wasn't worried that Kronos would find his actions strange. No, he'd be alarmed if Percy wasn't paranoid in the face of torture.

The titan circled his unwilling apprentice a few times, eyes examining his stiff form. Finally, as Percy expected despite his hopes of being wrong, Kronos stopped directly in front of him. "Luke," he called, "come closer."

The son of Hermes that had been observing from the closed doorway, should he need to make a hasty retreat in the event of a sudden flooding, moved silently towards the titan. He stopped a few feet away from the two, leaving at least two yards between himself and the duo of Kronos and his apprentice.

For a terrible moment, it seemed that Kronos would be content to let himself stand in silence with Luke a little ways beside him and Percy in front of him. Like it didn't bother him that both demigods were staring at him, both harboring terrible secrets against the titan of time.

But he couldn't know, Percy reminded himself firmly. Neither he nor Luke spoke about it outside of the training room. Kronos couldn't know.

(He told himself not that wonder if Kronos had cameras everywhere. He hoped that if the titan did, they weren't waterproof, especially in the constantly-flooded training room.)

Percy nearly exhaled audibly in relief when Kronos spoke. (Thankfully, he caught himself.)

"Apprentice, you are aware that you depart on a mission tomorrow, correct?"

Percy nodded, as any secretly-disloyal servant would.

Kronos nodded in satisfaction, crossing his arms behind his back and appearing to assume the same position as a drill sergeant in a bad World War II movie. "It is the same goal as last time, if you recall. Eliminate the guards, enter the building, secure for me a package, and then leave."

Although no questions were asked, Percy nodded again anyways. Better safe than sorry, especially since he had plenty to be sorry for already.

The titan of time narrowed his eyes, glaring at the son of Poseidon. "And if you encounter any demigods or residents of Camp Half Blood, you are not to engage. Do you understand me? Unless given orders from me and me alone, you do not engage."

Trying not to flinch back from the icy tone of the furious titan standing barely a foot in front of him, Percy did all that he could and nodded.

In the blink of an eye, Kronos changed. He pivoted slightly, looking now at Luke, although he could still see Percy from out of the corner of his eye. "Luke Castellan..." He mused in a voice that sounded borderline jovial.

Luke lifted his chin slightly to look at the slightly taller being. "Yes, my lord?"

"I've been good to you, haven't I?" Kronos asked, a thoughtful frown appearing on his lips. "I've given you a purpose, given you a home. Given you food, water, a roof over your head and a room nicer than most in this compound have ever seen. I've been good to you, haven't I." As he repeated it a second time, the phrase went from a question to a statement, obviously barbed.

"Yes, Lord Kronos. You have been very good to me throughout the years. I cannot thank you enough."

Despite Luke's reassuring words, Kronos frowned deeply. "Then why do I hear rumors about you threatening to escape?"

Percy's stomach dropped, pooling around his ankles. Undoubtedly pale-faced, he stared at Luke with wide eyes. Thankfully, the son of Hermes looked much more at ease. Percy hoped Kronos didn't decide to look back at him before he gathered his nerve together.

"Rumors?" Luke lied easily, faking a face full of innocent confusion. "What rumors have you heard, my lord?"

"Oh, surely you must have heard them as well, at least by now," Kronos replied, dropping the façade of hurt and revealing a face showing barely contained rage. "After all, I do wonder how they started."

"I don't know what-"

"What I'm talking about?" Kronos hissed, taking a step towards the son of Hermes. Percy had to give him credit; although Luke flinched badly, he didn't take a step backwards.

"I'm talking about how you plan on stealing my remote and escaping back to those goddamn Olympians!" Kronos finally roared, spittle flying from his mouth and splattering across both Luke's face and the wall behind him. "After all I've done for you, after all I've taught you, you would still run back to the father that abandoned you? I tried to show you that you didn't need Hermes any longer, that you had a new father! Obviously, you never got the message, you son of a bitch!"

Percy watched in horror as Kronos moved as it to turn back towards him, only to spin around once Luke started to lower his guard. In a flash, the titan swung out his arm and backhanded the son of Hermes so hard, he fell backwards and smashed his head against the concrete wall behind him.

Kronos stared at the blonde for a long moment, as if watching to see if he would get back up. When he didn't, the titan turned back to his apprentice with a jagged smirk. "As you can see, Apprentice, this room is not only designed for use on you."

The titan moved towards the door, leaving Percy standing there in shock, staring at the felled son of Hermes. Just before he reached the doorway, he turned back, as in afterthought. "I almost forgot, what with the excitement," he apologized, while his tone suggested he hadn't actually forgotten at all, "but you leave tomorrow night at seven o'clock for your mission. Get a good night's sleep, Apprentice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be around Friday! Thanks! :) 
> 
> (I'll try to make it more exciting, too.)


	16. Chapter 16

Third Person POV 

The titan moved towards the door, leaving Percy standing there in shock, staring at the felled son of Hermes. Just before he reached the doorway, he turned back, as in afterthought. "I almost forgot, what with the excitement," he apologized, while his tone suggested he hadn't actually forgotten at all, "but you leave tomorrow night at seven o'clock for your mission. Get a good night's sleep, Apprentice."

 

When Kronos said that Percy was leaving at seven o'clock in the night for his next mission, he didn't think he'd spend the entirety of the day training. Nor did he plan on Luke being completely absent throughout the many hours in which Percy held consciousness.

First, when Kronos told him to get a good night's sleep, Percy thought it was because he would need energy for the mission. And while he was probably correct on that front, he wasn't expecting to need extra energy from being a magical punching bag all day. Not that he himself was magic. No, he was a punching bag meant to absorb magic. (Or at least Kronos's freaky time powers which he hadn't yet used against the son of Poseidon in training.)

For a moment, Percy was almost glad he listened to the titan by getting more sleep. If only he didn't loathe just the thought of Kronos being right, he would gladly admit the fact. (Okay, maybe "gladly" isn't the right term...)

The issue with Luke, on the other hand, felt a bit more pressing. It was just a few hours ago that Kronos threw the son of Hermes into a wall, beating him in front of Percy as some kind of lesson. Somehow, Kronos knew about their plan to escape and appeal to the Olympians. How, Percy didn't know. But he really wanted to know how the titan knew, if only so he could brutally destroy whatever did him in.

After he made sure that Kronos had finally left the room last night, Percy hurried to Luke's side (Could he call Luke his friend by now? Or were they merely allies?) and checked his pulse. He released a sigh of relief at finding the son of Hermes still alive, despite the vicious head wound that allowed for blood to mingle with blonde hair. Percy refrained from moving the demigod, afraid that if he did he would jostle some sort of invisible injury and Luke would go from unconscious to dead in a snap of his fingers.

Instead, Percy stood up and walked from the training room, trying to look like he had just finished a day of casual, non-lethal training with everyone's favorite overlord. Although he assumed most of them believed he was walking back to his room, Percy was actually looking for Luke's room. The other boy had a stash of ambrosia and nectar that he kept in there. If only he could find it, Percy knew that Luke would be okay.

By the time he found the godly food and made it back to the training room, Luke was gone.

Percy didn't know if Luke left by himself, having awakened and thought himself well enough to stumble back to his quarters, or if something a little more sinister had happened. Having been staying at the compound for about a month now, Percy had heard noises in the night. Screams, swears, whimpers. The sounds of fear. He knew some were due to nightmares, of course, and others were unprompted. But there were a handful of people whose noises were out of defense, trying to protect themselves.

There was always a new person to occupy that room when the sun rose the next morning.

Point was, Percy didn't know what happened to Luke. He tried looking for him, only to be found by a pair of goons Kronos probably summoned to keep him occupied. For the rest of the night, Percy was confined to his room with no way of knowing where the son of Hermes ended up.

To find him missing all day only served to make Percy's suspicion grow. Not that he would ever say that to Kronos.

His plan finally ruined, his only plan of getting home to his family, Percy couldn't think of any other way to get out of his situation. If he escaped, he would need to have Kronos's remote with him, otherwise his friends would die within seconds. But Kronos surely would've upped the security, making sure that his only tool of bribery wouldn't disappear. With that gone, there would be no way for him to control Percy.

To escape, Percy needed the remote. But he doubted he'd ever even see it again, much less without the titan of time attached to it.

With escape a lost cause and no other choice than to comply, Percy found himself standing in New York City, in an empty apartment building, waiting for orders to start his next mission.

Apparently, this was the same set-up as the last one. He would go in, steal a package, and get out. Without talking to any demigods or people from his past life, so long as he wanted to keep both his arms and all his fingers unbroken.

Unlike the first mission, the package was located in an empty apartment in central New York City. No, not the one Percy was currently standing it (because that would be too easy). It was directly across from the room, though, so Percy could clearly see in.

There didn't appear to be any movement, but that didn't mean that there was no one there. Although it looked simple and quick, he would need to be just as careful in this as he would be if there were people around.

Percy watched from the darkened apartment for a moment, double-checking that he wasn't wrong when he concluded that there was a lack of beings around. From what he could see, the lighting in the apartment across the way was minimal; there appeared to be a lamp or two lit, which was enough to make a normal person believe someone was home, without too much light to make them assume suspicious activity.

He had been watching the apartment for over an hour, if the time on his watch was an accurate representation of the time. Not one living thing had moved within the apartment.

Percy was a little sad that he would be breaking that streak.

Quietly, the son of Poseidon lifted up the glass on the window from his apartment, silently commenting on how, for once, he was thankful for the lack of a screen on the other side. At least he didn't have to go through the effort of punching it out.

With the window opened wide enough for him to slip through, Percy stuck his head through the gap and gazed down into the street below. The apartments were both about ten stories up, maybe a little higher. The two buildings were separated by a thin alleyway dotted with trash cans and dumpsters, blissfully free of most of the traffic that occupied most of New York City. No one wanted to stroll through the alleys of New York, especially not at eight-thirty at night.

Satisfied that no one below would see his heist, Percy turned his head to look up quickly. There were still many more floors above the one he was on, each containing too many rooms that could hold people out to stop his mission. (Not that he wanted to complete the mission. It's just that failing it held consequences he wasn't ready to embrace.)

Although he couldn't see too far up, Percy didn't see the tell-tale signs of someone ready to leap out and stop him. The windows were closed, most had blinds on the inside of the glass, and there were no heads sticking out into the night air above him.

Relieved, Percy pulled his head back inside. He didn't need to be one of those rookies in action movies that never looks up, which is exactly where the bad guy is hiding. (Well, truthfully, in this case he is the bad guy. But the metaphor still holds validity.)

Now that he knew his mission was good to go, Percy slid his entire body out of the window and onto the creaky, metal fire escape. He pressed his black-clothed torso against the railing closest to the opposing building, masked face staring intensely into the other apartment. Still seeing no movement, Percy nodded slowly to himself.

It was go time, however cliché that may sound.

Swinging a black backpack off his back, Percy uncovered what looked like a giant mapping compass, similar to the ones he used to use in geometry classes when dealing with circles (oh, the dreaded shapes). One edge was deadly shape, looking pointy enough to carve a perfect circle out of a slab of dried cement. The other edge resembled a plunger with its suction-cup-like end.

With this instrument held tightly in his hands, Percy closed his eyes and concentrated.

When he opened his eyes, a narrow bridge of liquid water held itself, suspended, between the fire escape he was on and the one on the other building. It took much more effort to harden the water, forcing it into ice strong enough to carry the weight of a human. Percy released a sigh when he finished, wiping the beads of sweat off the parts of his face not obscured by the mask. The navy blue metal clung to his face, the sweat only enhancing his connection, much to Percy's loathing.

Quickly, before he lost concentration and allowed the bridge to melt in the summer night's air, Percy walked across.

Now, he wasn't like Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus who was scared of heights, but even he shuddered when he accidentally looked down. He tried to tell himself that if he did fall, at least the garbage would cushion the blow. It didn't work out so well, especially when his foot caught on the slick ice.

Percy bit back a curse as he slid, squeezing his eyes shut to force off the nausea that suddenly took hold. His grip tightened on his tool, knuckles turning white as he held the metal instrument closer. With a forced ease, he regained his footing on the bridge, wishing that he could've mustered up the strength to make it just a little bit wider.

He blamed Kronos and his excessive training. If he hadn't spent all day getting beat up already, he would've had enough energy to already finish the mission.

(Of course, he refused to acknowledge the voice that whispered that if it weren't for Kronos, he never would've known how to even make the bridge in the first place.)

Percy let out a heavy breath soaked with relief as he landed safely on the other side of the bridge. With a blink of his eyes, the son of Poseidon caused the ice to melt into liquid water, immediately sending it cascading into the alley below. If any curious passerby heard the noise, they'd probably just think it was someone throwing a bucket of gross water out of their apartment.

No mortal would ever guess that the son of Poseidon was there, making a bridge of ice so he could steal some sort of material for the evil titan of time.

And if they did, well, their therapist probably wouldn't believe them.

Now that he was on the other side of the alley, Percy turned the instrument over in his hands before attaching the suction cup to the glass of the offending window. Making sure it was firmly secured, he then turned his attention to the pointier end. It penetrated the glass neatly, blade so fine that the glass didn't even creak. Holding his breath, Percy began to carve a large circle into the glass of the window.

In a moment, a perfect circle stood outlined by the instrument on the window. Pursing his lips beneath the mask, Percy grabbed hold of the metal, praying to... Well, praying to himself that this would work. (He wasn't sure who to pray to anymore. The gods would ruin his mission, and Kronos was an asshole. The only one left to pray to to fix this was himself.)

Carefully, Percy slowly pulled the glass circle free from the rest of the window, leaving behind a perfect hole just big enough for the demigod to slip through. 

Resting the glass circle and the metal instrument against the fire escape, Percy entered the apartment. Hopefully this mission would go better than the last one. 

He should've known better than to think that, especially so early in the mission. 

"Stop, Percy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short! Next chapter will be on Tuesday, though. Thanks! :)


	17. Chapter 17

Third Person POV

Resting the glass circle and the metal instrument against the fire escape, Percy entered the apartment. Hopefully this mission would go better than the last one.

He should've known better than to think that, especially so early in the mission.

"Stop, Percy."

 

Annabeth was sitting by the creek near the woods when Silena found her. It was five days since the meeting with Percy on the roof of Poseidon's warehouse, five days since she exploded on everyone and stormed out of the rec room. Since then, the counselors have kept Percy's new supposed-alliance a secret, instead saying that a strange masked man stole from Poseidon and the demigods couldn't stop him.

No one mentioned that when the mask fell off, they were left staring at the once-general of their army.

As soon as Silena stepped towards the edge of the water, her toes pointing towards Annabeth, the daughter of Athena's stomach sank. Something was wrong, yet again. Still, she remained sitting on her rock, tracing a finger through the flowing waters. Even if she furiously denied Percy's involvement with Kronos, feeling the water tickle her fingers helped eliminate any lingering doubt.

How could a person be so two-faced and cruel when the stream was so friendly and gentle?

(Annabeth wasn't stupid; she knew that water could be dangerous. The ocean itself was just a giant pool of death, practically, but it never felt that way when she was there with Percy. Why wouldn't anyone listen to her when she insisted that Percy couldn't be working for Kronos?)

"Annabeth..." Silena started, staring at the blonde girl that kept ignoring her presence. "Annabeth, we need your help."

"Are you proving Percy's innocence?" Annabeth shot back in reply, flinching internally at how harsh her voice sounded. But she refused to track him down, knowing that Zeus must've ordered a hit for Percy's head by now. No matter what the truth was, Annabeth wouldn't bring him to his death.

She finally looked up when the daughter of Aphrodite said, "Hopefully."

With Annabeth's gray eyes on her, Silena found herself desperately attempting to maintain eye contact. "There's going to be another break-in," she stated, "except this one is in New York City, in the middle of the city. If it isn't Percy, this might be enough to at least give him a chance to explain himself when he's found."

Annabeth appreciated Silena's word choice. "When he's found"... "It isn't Percy"... She didn't even bother saying what would happen if it was Percy. They both knew it wouldn't be pretty, just like they both knew that Annabeth didn't need to think about that at the moment. She had enough thoughts running through her mind.

Carefully, the daughter of Athena stood up from the slick rock, watching her footing so she wouldn't slip and crash into the cool waters of the creek. Maintaining eye contact, she attempted a small smile, trying to squash the premature hope rising in her chest. Maybe Percy wouldn't be there.

"Let's go."

 

They arrived at the apartment building at just before eight-thirty at night, the sun dipping below the horizon. Beckendorf parked the white camp van in front of the building, on the street, as if to ward away any possible thieves. They piled out of the van, hurrying inside with weapons drawn as soon as the mortals were out of sight.

Beck led the way, followed by Silena. A few steps behind her was Grover, eyes wide with fear. Bringing up the back, Annabeth couldn't help but wonder why Grover still accompanied them on their missions. You would think that after the Brooklyn Bridge, he wouldn't want to participate.

(She was sure it had something to do with Percy, even before they found him on that roof. Maybe he was there to make sure no one else got lost, no one else got left behind. Even if they wanted to be left behind, maybe Grover was there to save them. He couldn't save his best friend; maybe he could save someone else.)

They climbed the staircase, avoiding the elevator in case the thief was already in the area and had sabotaged the machine. When they reached the floor, Beck held up a hand to stop the others. "This is the eleventh floor, where the item is being kept. The apartment it's in is actually three that Poseidon bought. He knocked down the walls between them, so my dad says, and it's basically just a giant apartment. We'll have to split up."

"I'll go with Grover," Silena offered immediately, shooting Beck an apologetic look when he pouted at her. "I think our skills will compliment each other, don't you, Charlie?"

Beckendorf had the sense to agree. "Yeah, that does make sense. Annabeth, will you be fine going alone?"

She nodded, knowing that the unspoken question was, "Will you be fine if you have to see him?" Hopefully, he wouldn't be here.

Beck stared at Annabeth for a long moment, as it to gauge whether or not he believed her. Apparently, he deemed her trustworthy enough, because his next words were directed at the group. "Ok. These three doors right here are to the apartments. I'll go in the first one, Silena and Grover take the second, and Annabeth, you go in the last one. Everyone good on the plan?"

When he saw three heads nod, Beck continued. "If you see an intruder, contact everyone else immediately. Here, the Hephaestus cabin whipped these up the other day." He passed out small, flat circles with a black screen on it and a button on the edge. "If you press the button, it sends out a signal to the others. If Grover sends the signal, my device would light up with his name, telling me to find Grover. Cool, right? Keep these on hand, just in case we need to contact each other. Got it?"

Seeing the three nods again, Beck tried for a small smile. "Okay team, let's go."

 

Annabeth stepped through the door of the apartment and walked straight into what would've passed for a casual living room. There was a gray couch against the right wall, with a TV sitting on a table on the left side of the room. A lamp was lit on a small table a little ways into the room, near the entrance to the hallway. Seeing no movement or windows someone could sneak through, Annabeth continued further into the apartment.

She followed the hallway past a kitchen area, which snaked around into a bedroom. The sheets were white and pristine, looking as if no one had ever slept in them. Knowing that these apartments were owned by Olympian gods, Annabeth could accurately guess that that was because they never had been slept in. Gods rarely needed to sleep; why would they do it in a small apartment building in central New York?

Unlike the living room, a wall of the bedroom was lined with windows. They stretched from a few feet off the floor to a foot from the ceiling, none of them having screens to protect against bugs. Annabeth guessed that it was because the gods could afford to ward the bugs off magically, but it was still disconcerting.

Carefully, Annabeth walked closer to the windows and peered through them, making sure that everything was as it should be. Seeing nothing wrong with the glass or the building across the street, she moved on past the bedroom.

The door she walked through led her to a bathroom, windows still facing the same building as those in the bedroom. But these windows were too small, too high up to be of any real concern to the daughter of Athena. There was another door at the other end of the bathroom. With one last glance around, Annabeth walked through.

This was a second bedroom, neat white sheets mirroring those from the first bedroom. There was a door against the back wall, opposite the large windows lining the room, which led to what Annabeth assumed to be a closet. In a technical sense, these rooms seemed to be exactly the same; same sheets, same wallpaper, same lamps sitting on the same bedside tables.

The only difference was that while the first room held one living person, this one currently contained two.

The person had their back to Annabeth when she walked in silently; they must not have heard her yet. The lit lamp was in front of her, ensuring that they wouldn't see her or her shadow until they turned around. But even before they did, Annabeth's heart sank.

Even with the dismal lighting from the single, abused lightbulb, she could still tell that this person wore a black shirt with black slacks. Although she couldn't see if the shirt buttoned up, nor could she catch a glimpse of their face, she knew who this was. Sure, other people wear black shirts and slacks, but her instincts screamed that this couldn't be anyone else.

In an instant, Annabeth's gray eyes took in the missing hole in the window and the way the person glanced around the room quickly, as if looking for something. She wanted to sigh, knowing without a doubt that this was the thief she was sent to stop.

If only it didn't have to be Percy. Could he never catch a break?

Steeling her nerves, Annabeth swallowed her nerves down. In a calm, unmoving voice, she broke the silence with two words. "Stop, Percy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I am so sorry it's so dreadfully short, I meant to make it longer but life got in the way. Next update will be on or around Monday! And I'm sorry it's a long time but Labor Day weekend and all... Sorry again!


	18. Chapter 18

Third Person POV

In an instant, Annabeth's gray eyes took in the missing hole in the window and the way the person glanced around the room quickly, as if looking for something. She wanted to sigh, knowing without a doubt that this was the thief she was sent to stop.

If only it didn't have to be Percy. Could he never catch a break?

Steeling her nerves, Annabeth swallowed her nerves down. In a calm, unmoving voice, she broke the silence with two words. "Stop, Percy."

 

Percy knew he was screwed as soon as he heard her voice. Sure, it had been five days since she last spoke to him, and before that it had been even longer, but he still recognized that voice of steely determination.

He knew that she was sent to bring him in, just as he knew that she would not willingly fail that mission. But he also knew that if he failed his mission, it wouldn't matter what success she had; she would be dead within two minutes.

Slowly, Percy turned around to face Annabeth. He reached a hand up quickly, making sure that his mask was still in place. He didn't need another event like last time, especially considering how well that ended for him when Kronos found out.

"Apprentice, you are not to engage," the titan hissed over the wireless communications device nestled in Percy's ear. Of course, he didn't want Percy to give a verbal response, which for once was a blessing.

Just as he expected, Annabeth was standing a few feet in front of him when he turned, arms hanging loosely by her sides. She looked completely relaxed, but Percy caught the twitch of her fingers as she itched to reach for her bronze knife. He hoped she didn't mean to use it against him, since he knew that the weight of the metal weapon in her hand made her feel much more at ease in any situation, but he didn't dare get his hopes up too high. Annabeth was a deadly opponent, even if he didn't think that she'd ever be his opponent.

The daughter of Athena raised a wary eyebrow at him, clearly taking in his stance. His feet were apart, even with his hands raised in what most would accept as a sign of surrender.

"I know you too well to surrender now, Percy, especially to me," she said, crossing her arms for a moment before returning them to her sides. She took a step closer to him. "Unless you've changed too much for me to recognize you, like the others keep trying to tell me."

Percy fought off a flinch at that, despite knowing full well that his old friends would likely have no faith towards him. Not after Luke.

(But now that he and Luke are... Were... friends, of a sort, how can he say that? Luke was justified in some of the things he did, after all; all he wanted was equality for demigods. It's not completely his fault that his plan majorly sucked; Kronos was the one that influenced him the whole time. Was Luke really as bad as Percy thought? And if he thought that about Luke, a person he knew for barely a summer, how can he protest to his friends judging him the same way?)

Annabeth caught sight of the remnants of the flinch, the parts that he was too slow to shake away, and chose to bring that to his attention.

Taking another step closer to him, she said, "Percy, just talk to me. They keep saying that you tried to drown us that night on the roof, that if we hadn't collapsed you would've continued until the four of us died." She watched him visibly shy away from her at that statement, causing her to take a few steps closer. "I don't believe them. If you truly wanted to kill us, you would've."

"I didn't want to kill anyone," Percy whispered despite himself, more to ease his own fears than to deny Annabeth's. He hadn't even realized he'd spoken aloud until she spoke again.

Above the shouting in his left ear, Annabeth continued with her goal of coaxing her Percy back. "I know, I know you. I know you didn't want to kill anyone before, and I know you don't want to kill anyone now. Please, Percy, you can tell that to the camp. They'll believe, as long as you're there in person and you're making an effort. Please, come back to camp with me."

Annabeth said "me", does that mean she's the only one the gods sent to stop him? It would be foolish on their part, but then again, it wouldn't be the first foolish thing they'd done, would it? He would be able to outmaneuver her, to grab the material and escape before Kronos did anything Percy would make him regret or before Percy did anything Kronos would make him regret.

He would be able to tell them that he didn't want to kill anyone, that he didn't mean to scare them. That he didn't mean to kill those cyclops at the warehouse, that he didn't want to betray them and abandon them.

He wanted to tell Annabeth, "Yes." He wanted to say that without a shadow of a doubt, he would return with her to Camp Half Blood and then the two of them would run away together. They could go to Alaska, where he's heard the gods and titans and the bloody wars can't follow. It could be just him and Annabeth (and a swarm of monsters, probably, but they would face those together).

But he couldn't do that because there was a shadow of a doubt. And that doubt was currently screaming in his ear.

"I told you not to engage!" Kronos barked, his demands never ceasing. Percy could already feel his head begin to throb, felt a headache brewing between his eyes.

Annabeth took another step closer to him and that was when he realized he was hesitating too long.

"I can't," his raspy voice murmured through the mask, despite everything screaming at him to stay silent. He took a few steps back, trying desperately to put space between himself and the daughter of Athena. She needed to stay away from him, couldn't she see that?

Clearly getting the hint, Annabeth didn't advance a step further. She just looked at him, frowning, with that adorable crease that she always got on her forehead when she was trying to figure out a particularly difficult equation. He could almost imagine that they were back at camp and he was sitting with her on the porch of the Athena cabin and she was trying to work, but he keeps pestering her, and she pretends to hate it even though everyone knows that she enjoys it as much as he does and-

"Why not?"

His eyes shoot back up from the wooden floor where they'd fallen as he reminisced old memories. Shaking off the nostalgia, he tried to focus on the present, and not the way just seeing Annabeth standing there made him want to cry.

The voice in his head was suspiciously silent at the moment, as if the mighty titan was waiting to see what his forced apprentice would say. In a different world, in a different situation, Percy would've made a joke about it to himself. He would've said, "Kronos should start hanging out more with Aphrodite, I didn't know he was such a fanboy sometimes."

Maybe the Percy from before the whole kidnapping thing would've made that joke. This Percy, the one wearing too many masks (both literal and metaphorical) could barely stop himself from breaking down right in front of his best friend.

When he finally answered Annabeth's question, his voice came out shaky and unsure. "I just... I can't."

The crease in her forehead deepened as her lips tilted further down in a frown. "Percy, that doesn't make any sense!" she exclaimed, clearly growing frustrated. "i'm right here, why won't you talk to me? I'm trying to help you, you idiot!"

"I know," he whispered, taking a half step back. His heel tapped against the wall. "And that's why you have to leave."

Confusion flitted across her face, disrupting the angry, frustrated frown. "What? No, I can't leave." She shook her head. "We were sent here to bring you back to Olympus, or camp, or somewhere, I'll be honest I wasn't completely paying attention, and-"

He stopped listening as she rambled on in her confused state. She said "we", meaning that there were more people in the area. They might be in the apartment, or maybe they were waiting somewhere outside as backup. How could he have been so stupid as to not ask her? Not that she would've told him the truth, with him being the enemy now, but still! What kind of idiot was he?

"Apprentice, disengage." Oh goody. The voice in his head came back.

"I can't," he murmured lowly to Kronos, tilting his head to the right slightly. He hoped Annabeth wouldn't notice, hoped she wouldn't hear him and ask what he was doing.

Of course, he should know by now that he has no luck.

"What do you mean, you can't?" She asked, face open with confusion on blatant display. "I wasn't asking you a question."

"Apprentice, if you do not terminate this conversation in thirty seconds, I will be forced to terminate it for you."

"Wait!" Percy shouted, throwing his hands out as if to stop an invisible foe. The foe was actually invisible, but Annabeth didn't know it was there.

She stared at him for a long moment, not moving. Carefully, slowly, she said, "I'm not going to do anything, Percy. I just want you to talk to me." Her next movement was so slow, and his brain was so jumbled, he almost missed it.

He had to stop his frenzied thoughts for a moment to focus on her reaching into the pocket of her shorts and pushing some kind of button.

"You do not talk back to me, Apprentice," Kronos hissed in his ear. Percy flinched away visibly, hardly caring anymore. Annabeth obviously thought he lost it (if he ever even had it) and was calling in the others to deal with his clinically insane ass.

Well isn't that lovely.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, aiming the words towards the vengeful titan. "Please, don't do it."

He knew Kronos hated hearing him speak, but he couldn't stop himself anymore. He went a month without speaking any more than two words to anyone, he couldn't stop the words now flying from his mouth.

"Percy!" Suddenly, Annabeth was in front of him, putting her delicate yet by no means fragile hands on his shoulders. The force was grounding, and he found himself snapping back into reality. "Percy, calm down! I'm not going to hurt you!"

She thinks he's worried about himself getting hurt? The idea is so hilarious that he can't halt the giggles that come flying from his mouth. He knows he's losing it, if it's not already lost, but he can't find it in himself to care. He's going to die as soon as he reports back to base, and Kronos isn't going to let him die easily. Might as well laugh before he gets his tongue ripped out for talking back.

Percy was somehow able to regain enough sanity to murmur, "I know," through another bout of hysterical-sounding laughter. He saw her gray eyes shining down on him, their beauty drowning in a flood of concern, but he doesn't get too long to contemplate it.

"Annabeth, did you find him?" someone shouted from nearby. Percy vaguely thinks that it sounds like someone he used to know... But there's too much worry and concern in that voice to match the one he remembers.

"I'm in here!" Annabeth shouted over her shoulder in reply before turning back to him. She lifted a tanned hand and skimmed it under the eye hole of that fucking awful navy blue mask. "You'll be okay, Percy, you don't have to cry. We're going to take you home."

When had he started to cry? He thought he was laughing, but now that he really evaluates his body's movements he can tell that he's trembling like a coffee cup in an earthquake, sobs shaking his body. Huh, funny how he hadn't noticed that.

Annabeth wrapped her arms around his kneeling form (when had he stopped standing?), pulling him close to her in an effort to erase his tremors. "You're so thin," she murmured sadly, addressing him but clearly speaking to herself.

He wanted to laugh bitterly and say something witty about how Kronos's hospitality sucked, but instead of a chuckle another sob escaped his lips. He decided the witty remarks could follow when he wasn't a shaking, crying mess on the floor of an unused apartment.

There were footsteps, three distinct sets, and then there were three more people crowding around him. He bit back a gasp (where had they fucking come from?! They weren't here a minute ago.) and tried to stop his limbs from flailing about and smacking them in the face because he knew who they were. These were his friends, or at least they were before this whole... Situation.

He didn't know what to call them anymore.

Beck was by his side, putting a hand on his shoulder and saying some words in a low voice. Percy couldn't tell what he was saying, but the tone was comforting enough.

Silena stood back a few feet, hands covering her mouth as tears visibly gathered in her blue eyes. Percy felt bad that she had to witness this; he hadn't wanted anyone to see him like this. Ever.

Grover stood next to Silena, looking torn between helping Percy and helping the distraught daughter of Aphrodite. Percy wanted to erase that look of hurt from the satyr's face and was glad when he picked helping Silena.

(He was a traitor, a coward, a pawn, a thief. He didn't deserve their help.)

"Percy," he heard Annabeth say, but her voice sounded oh so far away. "Percy, come back to camp with us. We can help you."

"Apprentice. Disengage," the voice in his ear demanded, his cold tone a complete opposite to the warm voice used by Annabeth.

"I can't go home," Percy muttered under his breath, but Annabeth heard. (Of course she heard, what doesn't she hear?)

Sighing softly, she argued, "Yes, you can, Percy. You can always go home. Please, come home with us. Your mom misses you, your dad misses you, your friends miss you. I miss you. Please, come home with us."

Percy felt his resolve wavering, and he knew that the next words out of his mouth would be ones that Kronos would hate.

"It seems I have to take matters into my own hands," the voice in his ear muttered angrily before the line went dead.

Immediately, Percy bolted upright and jumped to his feet, backing away from the startled demigods. The four watched him go with wide eyes, clearly not expecting him to be able to move that quickly.

Percy didn't even think he could move that fast.

"I can't," he repeated to them, green eyes undoubtedly looking maniacal behind the navy blue mask. "You need to get away from here."

"Percy, please don't do this again! We just want-"

He knew Annabeth was going to say, "We just want to help you," but she didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. Her skin began to glow orange and she toppled towards the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because of school, next chapter will be posted on or around Sunday! Sorry for the wait!


	19. Chapter 19

Third Person POV 

He knew Annabeth was going to say, "We just want to help you," but she didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. Her skin began to glow orange and she toppled towards the ground.

 

"No!" Percy cried, rushing forwards and catching Annabeth before her glowing body could hit the floor. He cradled her carefully, making sure he didn't hold her too tightly nor too loosely. He was terrified to squeeze her to death just as he was terrified of dropping her.

"No, I was about to leave! You can't do this!" He murmured heatedly into the air, directing his angry words at the titan of time. "I was about to leave..."

"Percy, what's going on?" Beck's voice cut in through the haze, causing the son of Poseidon to glance up slowly. His eyes dragged themselves from Annabeth's troubled, unconscious face to meet that of the worried son of Hephaestus.

He stared for a moment, unable to form words, which prompted Beck to repeat the question. "What's going on? What happened to her?" He didn't say 'what did you do to her' but the question still floated through Percy's head anyways. He was sure Beck was thinking it, despite the worried crease in his forehead and the frantic tone to his voice.

The repetition of the question knocked some of Percy loose. His eyes darted back down to Annabeth's face, tears threatening to slip down the mask as he fought back a wave of helplessness. "I-I told him not to, I was trying to leave, she should've just let me leave, this is all-"

Someone screamed, cutting off Percy's nervous rant. He jolted his head back up quickly, eyes immediately landing on Silena.

She stared in horror at the ground, where Beckendorf lay, his body glowing the same orange as Annabeth's despite the difference in skin tone.

Percy hadn't even heard him fall.

"Charlie!" Silena cried, falling to her knees beside her slightly twitching boyfriend, cradling his head in her lap. "Charlie, speak to me!"

"He can't," Percy said numbly, voice monotone as he stared blankly at the son of Hephaestus. It was such a contrast from the son of Poseidon sitting there two minutes ago that it forced Silena and Grover to both turn to look at him. "He'll be dead in five minutes."

Silena stared for a moment, then shook her head firmly. "No, no, that can't be true. You're lying. You're the enemy. You're working for Kronos and-"

Silena toppled over, sprawling across Beckendorf's body as her own skin lit up from within.

The last person standing, Grover looked at his once-best friend with wide, petrified eyes. "Percy, please tell me this isn't you."

Percy shook his head miserably. "I can't stop it Grover. He's going to kill everyone and I can't fucking stop it. I just want to go home."

"Let us help you, man! Help us to help you!"

Before Percy could repeat his mantra of 'I can't', the voice in his ear spoke up. "I'll turn off the bots if you stop talking to the satyr and use some of those powers I taught you."

Immediately, Percy clammed up. His mouth, which he had previously opened to speak, closed with an audible 'clop'. Grover frowned.

"Percy? Percy, talk to me. Please, we can't help you if-"

A ball of ice materialized in the air and flew towards Grover's head.

 

With a groan, Grover rubbed the sizable lump on his head and sat up slowly. At first, he didn't recognize his surroundings. He was in a sizable room with large windows. The sky outside showed that it was still night, probably a few hours until dawn.

Grover rubbed his head again and tried to remember what had happened and where he actually was. There was no place in camp that looked like this.

Someone muttered a curse behind him, nearly making the satyr jump to his feet. As it was, he whipped around as quickly as his head injury (did he have a concussion? How does one tell?) would allow.

"Silena?"

The daughter of Aphrodite glanced up slowly, a delicate hand placed on her own head as she tried to rub away whatever headache was forming behind her blue eyes.

"Grover? What happened? All I remember is..." She trailed off, eyes suddenly going comically wide. She bolted up, back straight as if someone had put a rod there, and glanced around frantically. She shifted her weight, and something let out a hiss beneath her.

Silena looked down, partially confused, partially worried, before throwing herself down on top of the son of Hephaestus beneath her.

"Oh, Charlie! He said you only had five minutes to live and I didn't know what to do or whether we could trust him anymore and you weren't waking up but then everything went dark and I was so worried, oh Charlie!"

Beckendorf let out a weak chuckle that sounded more like a cough. "What happened?" He cast his eyes up and looked at Grover. "Where's Annabeth?"

A beat of silence passed before Grover murmured, "Oh gods, Annabeth..."

The three friends stood up and hurried over to the daughter of Athena, unmoving on the ground of the strange room.

 

In the green lighting of the training room at Kronos's headquarters, Percy knelt before the titan of time. The immortal being, trapped within Ethan's body, didn't pace like one of those enraged villains in a bad spy movie. Unlike the stereotypical cat-snuggling, pacing villains, Kronos stood completely still before his apprentice, glaring down at the son of Poseidon with all the hatred he could muster.

"I know demigods are dyslexic," Kronos started, tone containing a forced lightness despite the angry shadows darkening his face, "but I wasn't aware that dyslexia was supposed to interfere with hearing. Were you, apprentice?"

Wisely, Percy shook his head. He already spoke back to the titan earlier; he wasn't willing to incur more of his rage.

"How odd," Kronos mused to himself, scowling at the kneeling teenager. "Do you have a problem with your hearing, apprentice?"

Again, Percy shook his head, smart enough to know exactly where this would lead. At least, he was sure he would hate the outcome.

As expected, Kronos darted forwards with a speed unimaginable for a being other than an all powerful titan. He reached down, grabbed Percy by the front of his black button-up shirt, and lifted him from the ground. Higher, and higher still, until Percy had to strain for his toes to even skim the concrete surface of the floor. Ethan was tall, but Percy was being held high above the face of the possessed demigod.

Slowly, Kronos brought Percy close to that face until they were nearly touching. "Then why didn't you listen to my orders, apprentice?" Kronos asked, spitting out that last word with so much venom that spittle splattered across Percy's navy blue mask.

Unwilling to speak (and even if he would speak, unwilling to answer), Percy did nothing.

Kronos stared into the face of the son of Poseidon for a long moment, so long that Percy began to wonder what he was looking for. Finally, he twisted his face until a hideous snarl that made a chill run up Percy's spine. With a growl, Kronos pulled his arm an inch closer to his body before throwing Percy across the room.

With a thud, the son of Poseidon hit the wall.

As he impacted with the unforgiving concrete and rolled down to the floor, he fought the urge to chuckle (which probably meant he was concussed or horribly injured or hey, maybe Kronos finally knocked some of his last screws loose). This was almost exactly what happened to Luke! Maybe Percy would finally find out what happened to his friend. (Were they friends? Were they allies? Were they just fellow prisoners, soon to be fellow deceased demigods?)

"'Success is the sole earthly judge of right and wrong'," Kronos recited, stalking towards the broken demigod laying on the concrete floor. "Surely even a fool like you would be familiar with the infamous Adolf Hitler," he mocked, reaching the demigod and crouching down to get closer to his eye level. "You nearly cost me my success, apprentice. I think, by Hitler's terms, that means you're wrong. And if you're wrong, that means you're bad. And if you're bad..."

Kronos trailed off, lazily standing himself back up. He stared down at Percy impassively, bar the small smirk forcing his lip into a Grinch-like curl and the spark of cruelty lingering in his golden eyes.

"That means you need to be punished."

 

"Annabeth? Annabeth, please!"

For some reason, Annabeth kept walking up to people calling her name nowadays. It was getting really annoying, especially since all she wanted to do was sleep. (And, in a lot of those situations, they were only calling her name because something bad had happened.) She considered ignoring the people calling her and letting the darkness whisk her away again, but the voices were too persistent.

With a loud groan to voice her displeasure, Annabeth sat up.

Someone let out a sigh, but Annabeth's eyesight was suddenly too blurry to allow her to see who. "Oh thank the gods, Annabeth. We didn't think you were going to wake up."

Annabeth ignored the sick feeling in her stomach, the one that told her something was very wrong, while also trying to push the desperate need for water out of her head. "What happened?" she rasped.

There was a pause, during which her eyesight finally cleared. Silena and Beck was sitting down in front of her, with Grover slightly more to her right. With her observant nature, Annabeth quickly took in their appearances and blurted out the first words that came to mind.

"You all look like shit."

The three frowned at her, but they couldn't deny the truth. Silena and Beck had bags under their eyes and their skin seemed unnaturally pale. (Or paler, in Beck's case.) Grover, on the other hand, had a massive lump growing on the side of his head that looked extremely painful. Annabeth wondered where he got it, but that wasn't a huge priority at the moment.

"Gee thanks," Silena snarked, sticking her tongue out at the daughter of Athena. "You're not one to talk, though."

Annabeth forced out a bit of laughter, before returning to her first question. "What happened?" she repeated, any hint of a smile dropping off her face.

"Percy was here," Beck started hesitantly after a moment, caving after the others stared him down, "and..."

Annabeth didn't hear the rest of what he said.

"Where did Percy go?" she asked, interrupting whatever it was that Beck was saying.

"We don't know," Silena responded quickly.

"He was gone when we woke up," Grover added.

Annabeth frowned. "I was talking to him, and then... Something happened."

"It happened to me and Charlie too," Silena said softly, holding on to Beckendorf's arm tightly. "We don't know what it was."

"We need to figure that out," Annabeth muttered, mostly to herself. "We need to figure out how to help Percy."

Beck, Silena, and Grover sent her dubious looks complete with eyebrows raised in disbelief, none of them strong believers in the theory that Percy was innocent. But after everything she (now) remembered happening, she had no choice but to believe that Percy was being forced into this.

"Come on guys, didn't you see him? We need to help him!" Annabeth pleaded, carefully picking herself up off the floor. The others slowly followed suit, standing around her in the large apartment building owned by the god of the sea.

"I might be able to help you with that," a voice offered from the doorway to the small room they stood in. Annabeth whirled around, recognizing the voice immediately, despite her disbelief that she would hear it again with such a friendly compassion.

"Luke?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be out around next Sunday! Sorry for the long time, but life is absolutely chaotic at the moment, sorry! Hope you like the story anyways! :)


	20. Chapter 20

Third Person POV

"We need to help him!" Annabeth pleaded. 

"I might be able to help you with that," a voice offered from the doorway to the small room they stood in. Annabeth whirled around, recognizing the voice immediately, despite her disbelief that she would hear it again with such a friendly compassion.

"Luke?"

 

Immediately, Silena and Beck scooted closer to Grover and formed a human shield between the intruder and Annabeth. Scoffing at their worry, the daughter of Athena tried to peer around the wall of their connected shoulders and face the person on the other side.

"Guys, he's here to help," Annabeth urged. "Let's just hear him out."

"I'd rather not, Annabeth," Silena stated, crossing her arms in defiance against the son of Hermes. "How do we know this isn't some kind of trick?"

Luke raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, inching out of the shadows and closer to the group. As the light moved across his body, it illuminated a bloody gash going down the demigod's left leg and dripping slowly onto the ground. "I'm not trying to trick you."

Despite her angry fortitude, Silena gasped.

"Holy shit," Beck cursed under his breath. "What the hell happened?"

Luke shrugged noncommittedly, stopping a few feet from the unmoving, living barrier between him and one of his oldest friends. "Kronos happened."

Silena opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it and rethought her position on the matter. "That might be fake. It could be a trick of the Mist, Kronos surely taught him how to manipulate it."

"It smells real," Grover nearly whimpered, looking at the nasty wound with barely disguised horror.

"Maybe we could continue this somewhere else where we could all sit?" Luke suggested suddenly, having been watching the exchange with great interest. "I hate to interrupt, but I'd really prefer sitting."

Silently, the three demigods and one satyr agreed to do as Luke suggested. Still maintaining the barrier between him and Annabeth, they shuffled out of the room and into one that closer resembled a dining area.

"Thank you," Luke murmured once they sat down, bar Beckendorf who remained standing with his arms crossed behind Annabeth and Silena.

"Don't thank us yet," Silena nearly spat at him, narrowing her blue eyes. "Even if I'm not willing to believe it, you may have turned a new cheek. Sure, miracles can happen. But you still betrayed us to Kronos!"

"Silena-" Annabeth tried to interject, with no-doubt kind words to Luke in her voice.

"No, Annabeth." For once, Silena refused to back down to one of her best friend's urging. "How many times did he try to kill us? How many times did he try to kill you? Have you forgotten that he once helped kidnap you and held you hostage beneath the sky? He didn't try to save you, he just watched. Why should we try to save him?"

"You shouldn't."

Every eye in the room turned to look at the earnest son of Hermes.

"What?" Annabeth managed, frowning.

"You shouldn't try to save me," Luke repeated, tone serious and genuine. "Silena is right, I did terrible things. And while I can regret those actions, every single damn one of them, I can't even begin to ask for your forgiveness."

"Then why are you here?" Beckendorf asked after a beat of silence, raising a challenging eyebrow at the son of Hermes that wronged too many of the people gathered around the table of Poseidon's apartment. "And how did you even know that we were here?"

"I saw Percy leave," he answered simply and easily. "I was in the alley below and I saw him run across a bridge made of ice to the other side. When he never ran back to this side, it was easy to tell which building he was running from and which he was running to. I counted the fire escapes to find the floor, and when I got here I guessed - correctly, might I add - that he had entered the apartment whose doors were still open to the corridor."

The others all looked at Annabeth, who frowned to herself. "I thought I closed the door behind me," she murmured loud enough for the others to hear. It would've had to be her door, otherwise Luke might not have found them.

As if he didn't detect her confusion, Luke laughed a little to himself, earning glares from the other demigods. Seeing this, he hurried to explain himself. "I should've known that Percy would do something like that."

"Like what?" Grover asked, a small frown pulling his lips south.

Luke grinned. "Annabeth says she closed the door, and I don't doubt her. Percy is a smart guy, but also a damn loyal one too. If I had to guess, I'd say that he wanted someone to find you guys so he went and opened the door closest to where you were so you would be discovered. He probably didn't want to leave you alone, not in this weird apartment that smells vaguely like fish, especially at night."

"Excuse me, but this is my weird apartment that smells vaguely like fish, and I don't remember giving you permission to enter."

Luke whirled around in his chair, hissing audibly when he twisted his injured leg. The others spun their heads around too, gaze landing on a man clad in a Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts, standing and frowning a few feet away.

"Lord Poseidon," Annabeth greeted with a hushed exclamation.

"We were just leaving," Grover croaked at the same time, looking like he was ready to pass out. Which, knowing him, he probably was.

Poseidon waved a dismissive hand at the four of them. "You four are fine, you need not worry." He turned his green-eyed glare to the son of Hermes. "You, on the other hand... I believe the son of Hephaestus asked you a question."

Luke swallowed hard before speaking. "I believe I answered his question in a satisfactory fashion, but I can repeat my answer if it would please you, Lor-"

"You didn't answer both of his questions," Poseidon interrupted, gaze narrowing further.

"I don't know what-"

Poseidon lifted a hand and Luke stopped in his tracks, closing his mouth abruptly. The others stared on in a mix of apprehension, confusion, and curiosity. What had drawn the god of the sea from Olympus?

"Why are you here?"

Luke hesitated before responding, as if he expected Poseidon to cut him off again immediately after he started speaking. When Poseidon made no move, Luke answered reluctantly, "I just want to help Percy, Lord Poseidon."

The god stared at the demigod for a long moment, never blinking and never taking his eyes off the mortal son of Hermes before him. The moment lasted so long that Annabeth began to already mourn the man the son of Hermes used to be and tried to be in the end, because surely Poseidon was just contemplating which animal to turn him into.

Unlike Artemis and Dionysus, Poseidon wasn't known for turning people into a certain species of animal, so he had a wide variety of options to choose from.

When he opened his mouth to speak, Annabeth expected some kind of spell or chant. She expected to hold back tears of regret as she watched Luke writhe away into whatever animal Poseidon selected for the son of Hermes. She expected Luke to scamper off as a creature on four legs, not two.

Instead, Poseidon's face softened and he said gently, "How can you help me bring my son home?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so short, I'm so sorry, but I'm not feeling too great and life is a train wreck. So I figured I'd at least get this out! Look for the next update on Sunday!


	21. Chapter 21

Third Person POV

Instead, Poseidon's face softened and he said gently, "How can you help me bring my son home?"

 

The five stared at the god of the ocean with varying expressions. Annabeth wore a look of pleasant surprise, while Grover simply smiled, perhaps anticipating the god's question. Silena and Beckendorf exchanged a look, both seeming wary of the development but not completely against it. Luke stared, like a deer caught in the headlights, as if he couldn't believe Poseidon hadn't already killed him.

Seeing that Luke was in no state to respond, Annabeth replied to the god. "After we finished interrogating Luke, Lord Poseidon, I believe he was going to tell us that."

The sea god waved off her comment. "Annabeth, dear, if you five are going to bring my son back home, you may call me Poseidon. I believe I owe you that much, already."

Looking a little reluctant, Annabeth nodded and glanced at Luke, who was standing in front of his seat at the kitchen table. "Luke, why don't you tell Poseidon what your plan is?"

"And please, sit down. Everyone," Poseidon added, waving his hand and causing two more chairs to materialize. Beckendorf, who had been standing, took one and sat gingerly next to Silena while Poseidon seated himself in the other one next to Grover.

"Now," Poseidon started once everyone was gathered around the small kitchen table, "what is the plan?"

All eyes turned to Luke, who cleared his throat. "I'm not quite sure how to start..." He admitted awkwardly.

Poseidon smiled reassuringly, his eyes looking sad and troubled from up-close. "As they say in the movies, start from the beginning." His face adopted a pondering look. "How are you here?"

"I escaped," Luke said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Percy and I had a plan to escape, together," he continued in a louder voice. "We were going to steal Kronos's remote, sneak out, run to Olympus, and tell the Olympians of Kronos's plan."

The sea god raised both his eyebrows in surprise. "A risky idea, if I must say so. How could you be sure that the council wouldn't vote to kill you as soon as your information was shared?"

The son of Hermes avoided eye contact with everyone, instead staring down at his lap in self-conscious shame. "We weren't sure. But we figured it was a worthy gamble. Both Percy and I agreed that it would be better to die at the hand of our parents than to serve Kronos for a day more."

Poseidon let out a deep breath, leaning back against the backing of his chair, his face troubled. When he made no move to resume the conversation, Annabeth asked, "Clearly, Percy didn't escape. But how did you manage to?"

"Kronos tried to kill me," Luke answered, meeting her gray eyes briefly before looking away quickly. "Somehow, I'm not sure how, he found out about our plan. I'm afraid he has eyes everywhere in his compound, and those eyes have ears. He confronted Percy and me about the plan. I don't know if he knew of both Percy's and my involvement in the plan, or just mine, but all I remember is him shouting at me." Luke paused for a moment, closing his blue eyes as he relived the memory. "He came at me, shouting. Percy was there, too. Kronos turned towards him, and I thought that was all, but the second I lowered my guard..." He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the table. "I collided with something hard, hitting my head. I don't know what exactly happened to Percy after that. I hardly even know what happened to me."

"What did happen to you?" Annabeth asked hesitantly, as if afraid to ask. "From what you told us, it seems that Kronos wouldn't let you out of his eyesight."

The son of Hermes shrugged. "I woke up outside of the compound, the first time I had been outside without Kronos or Ethan since about two years ago. I was being dragged through the grass, with a Cyclops holding onto my ankle. He was carrying a studded iron rod, the pointy part of the nails sticking out." Luke swallowed hard. "He was talking to himself about how, after he killed me like Kronos asked him to, he was going to eat my bones since he didn't have to share my corpse with anyone."

"Oh gods, Luke," Annabeth breathed, eyes wide with horror.

He shrugged again. "I pretended to be unconscious until we stopped moving. The Cyclops dropped my leg, and I jumped up. His weapon was steel, so I couldn't use that to kill him, but there was a large rock on the ground..." Luke trailed off, the others able to fill in his silence with their own assumptions.

After a beat of silence, Silena ventured, "How did you get that cut on your leg?" Underneath the table, she could see the blood still dripping, albeit slowly, down Luke's leg.

"The Cyclops got in a lucky swing that I couldn't dodge," he answered simply, tone implying that he would like very much to move on in the conversation.

"Let me dress that," Poseidon said, seeing the wound for the first time. He waved his hand, allowing bandages to encircle the wounded leg. "Apollo will have to look at it later, but for now you'll survive."

"Thank you, Lord Poseidon," Luke murmured. The sea god raised an eyebrow, to which Luke flushed and amended, "Thank you, Poseidon."

As the sea god smiled at the son of Hermes, Annabeth rejoined the conversation and asked, "Where did you go after the encounter with the Cyclops, now that you were free?"

"It was yesterday that Kronos tried to have me killed," Luke answered, "since Percy had a little over twenty-four hours until his next mission by the time Kronos confronted me. Once I woke up and... escaped, I picked a direction and headed towards the closest town. From the compound, I knew where New York City was, but with my recent state of unconsciousness, I couldn't figure out which direction I was going. Thankfully, I managed to arrive just south of New York City. I knew New York City was the place where I needed to go, since I overheard the Cyclops talking about Percy's mission as well. I just didn't know where in the city. Thankfully, I wandered around enough that I finally spotted a glimpse of something shining in an alley. I saw Percy's bridge of ice connecting this building with the other one, then I watched him run across it a moment later."

"How did he seem?" Annabeth interrupted, stopping Luke in his tracks. When she noticed everyone's eyes locked on her, she flushed. "Percy," she attempted to elaborate. "How did Percy seem?"

Luke watched Annabeth for a long moment before he answered. "Agitated," he stated. "Nervous. Worse than I had ever seen him before my disappearance." Luke paused, a look of question on his face. "What happened before he left the building?"

Beckendorf, who had maintained a stance of silent contemplation throughout the duration of the conversation, answered. "We each had a communicator on us, me, Silena, Grover, and Annabeth. We had split up, and if anyone encountered Percy or anything else, we were to hit the button on the communicator."

Beck looked around at everyone listening intently to his tale, everyone except for Annabeth who stared down at her lap silently. "Annabeth alerted us to Percy's presence in her area, and we all hurried to find her. When we did, we found them kneeling on the ground. Percy was crying, and Annabeth was talking to him. Saying he would be okay. I went over, put my hand on his shoulder, and tried to help him. We all did. He was shaking, and crying, and I had never seen him like that. I don't think any of us have."

Beckendorf trailed off, lost in his memories. Poseidon, a disturbed and sorrowful look on his face, prompted in a soft voice, "What happened afterwards?"

"Annabeth kept talking to him," Beck continued, sounding lost in thought. "She wanted him to come back to camp with us. To go home to his mother and his friends and you, Poseidon."

"What did Percy say?" Poseidon asked, face pale and voice barely audible.

"He said he can't," Annabeth picked up, voice devoid of emotion and eyes focused downwards. "He said he can't and when I told him he can, he always can... He told me to leave."

"Annabeth tried to stay strong, but..." Silena trailed off, looking at the daughter of Athena with sympathy.

Luke and Poseidon exchanged glances of confusion.

"But?" Luke repeated, frowning slightly. "But what?"

"Annabeth turned orange," Grover piped up, surprising them all. "And she fell to the ground, but Percy caught her just in time. As if he knew it was going to happen. He started talking to himself, saying that he was about to leave and it shouldn't have happened."

Luke started to look uneasy.

"Then the same thing happened to Charlie," Silena said, voice soft as she looked at her boyfriend with fear. "And Percy told me he would be dead in five minutes."

Annabeth and Beckendorf looked at each other, neither knowing the full extent of the encounter.

"Silena collapsed next," Grover murmured, almost talking to himself. "Mid-rant, she just fell. I looked at Percy and I asked him if he was the one doing it."

"He wasn't," Luke muttered under his breath, clearly audible to the others in the silence of the apartment.

Grover shot Luke a questioning glance, but kept with his story. "He said to me, 'He's going to kill everyone and I can't stop it'. I begged him to help, but then he froze. A second later, a ball of ice appeared out of nowhere and hit me on the head."

Poseidon was pale and Luke was troubled by the time Grover finished his tale. "He shouldn't be able to do that," the sea god muttered under his breath, running a hand through his   
black hair and looking millennia older than the young appearance he paraded around in.

Finally looking up from her lap, Annabeth locked eyes with Luke. "You know something," she said, voice sounding indifferent despite the accusation. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, "What is it that you haven't told us?"

Swallowing hard, Luke admitted, "I know what made you lose consciousness and turned your skin orange."

"You do?" Silena asked, disbelief coloring her tone.

Luke nodded solemnly. "I do. And it's the only thing keeping Percy working for Kronos."

The five others stared at the son of Hermes for a long moment, waiting for him to share more. Finally, someone snapped.

"Well, what is it?" Annabeth asked, clearly frustrated. It was a nice change, Luke had to admit, since a moment earlier her emotions were blank.

The others nodded in agreement, including Poseidon; all of them wanted to know just what was important enough to keep the son of the sea contained, especially since it was clearly torturing him.

"Do you remember when Kronos put the bomb on the Brooklyn Bridge?" Luke asked suddenly.

Beckendorf narrowed his eyes, remembering his near-failure. Thankfully, the bomb hadn't done anything. (Or so he thought. He was beginning to suspect otherwise.)

"When the bomb detonated," Luke explained, "these specially-designed nanobots were released into the air. They went into your lungs, into your body, and latched into the nearest organs they could reach. You four passed out from the chemicals released with the explosion, and when you woke up you couldn't feel the bots inside of you, they're so small. But just after that initial explosion, Percy told Kronos that he doubted the truth."

"As do I," Annabeth muttered, frowning slightly at the absurdity of Luke's story.

Luke ignored her in favor of continuing on. "When Percy told Kronos he didn't believe him, Kronos laughed. I should know," he supplied, "because I was there. Kronos made me sit in on most of his... 'meetings' with Percy. After laughing, Kronos pushed a button on this remote he keeps on his person at all times and..."

"Our skin glowed orange," Silena finished in a voice muted with horror. "And we all fell to the ground. Percy watched that?"

"Kronos made Percy watch it all," Luke responded gravely. "He thought the bomb killed you all. The only reason he agreed to work for Kronos was to keep him from pressing the button on that remote again."

Annabeth muttered something about loyalty and an idiot's priorities under her breath, throwing in a few curse words that Luke could only hear because he was sitting near her. Then, louder, she addressed the group. "Clearly, we need to save him. Immediately. Sooner than immediately."

"I think our first priority should be to remove these 'nanobots' from your systems," Poseidon argued, standing up from the table carefully. "Apollo can do that while he has one of his healers tend to Mr. Castellan's leg wound."

"But Poseidon-" Annabeth tried to protest, but the god of the ocean put up a silent hand.

"We cannot help Percy is Kronos still has you four as leverage to hold over his head," he stated in a gentle voice. "If we're going to help him, you must be out from Kronos's influence."

Annabeth nodded reluctantly, looking like she would much rather argue with the Olympian but knew better.

"Not to ruin the process we have going here," Grover said hesitantly, interrupting the silence, "but once Apollo cures us, how are we even going to find Percy? Kronos might have him located somewhere else by now."

"I know where to find them," Luke promised grimly. "But if I've learned anything about Kronos, it's that we're going to need to hurry. I don't want to think about what he might be doing to Percy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, don't be mad, but next update is Monday, October 8. (I'm SUPER busy coming up and I don't want another rushed chapter. Sorry!)


	22. Chapter 22

Third Person POV

"I know where to find them," Luke promised grimly. "But if I've learned anything about Kronos, it's that we're going to need to hurry. I don't want to think about what he might be doing to Percy."

 

Luke should've been glad he was too far away from the compound to know what was happening. Percy himself felt relief only because his friends and family were so far away. If only they could see how far their hero had fallen... They would laugh at his pathetic-ness, surely. Good thing he would be dying here and the only way he would see them again is if one of them came to visit him in the Fields of Punishment.

(He was a traitor and a coward and a liar and a pawn. The only place he would end up once he died was the Fields of Punishment. All his friends, clearly, would get into Elysium. Maybe Nico and Hades would let them visit him, after they're sure that his mental state isn't completely shattered and in tattered smithereens. If Kronos just killed him now, maybe he would even be able to retain a bit of his sanity. The chance of sanity even now wasn't a huge one, but it was one all the same. Too bad Kronos wasn't known for his mercy.)

"How are you feeling, Apprentice?" Kronos asked, voice loud and echoing and jarring to Percy's ears. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound smashing through Percy's head and increasing the size of the already-large headache forming between his eyes.

Percy closed his green eyes and pressed his face further into the cold cement floor where Kronos had dropped him. There was a small pool of blood around his head, he knew from the stickiness he felt whenever he so much as flinched, coming from his split lip, split cheek, and some kind of wound to the back of his head. He couldn't quite remember how he got all those injuries, only that they were painful and cruel and inflicted by the titan of time himself.

In response to Kronos's question, Percy barely suppressed a flinch.

"I see you're as honored as always to be in my presence," Kronos cackled. So maybe Percy didn't suppress that flinch as much as he thought he did. "Did you thought of anything new since our last encounter?"

Percy thought back to about an hour ago. (Or maybe it was longer than that. Or maybe it was shorter. Kronos had been using his time powers since Percy returned from his latest mission- time no longer held any meaning to him. He was sure the titan slowed time during the sessions, only to make them last longer and fit more into the timeframe, but he had no way of knowing whether or not that applied to the breaks. What day was it, even?)

An hour ago (or maybe not), Kronos tortured his apprentice. It was the usual; he threw Percy into the wall a couple times, broke each of his fingers one by one, and then ended it off with an art lesson with a blowtorch. He dusted over the worst of the wounds with enough water to keep Percy alive and relatively unharmed, but the blood still pooling around Percy's head told him that the water didn't do all that it was supposed to do. And as if that wasn't enough, he finished this latest torturing session with the same question he asked the last five fucking times.

"How do you think the camp reacted to hearing about Annabeth's death?" the titan has mused after each session since Percy got back from his mission.

The first time, he screamed and threw a punch in Kronos's direction, despite the broken leg he ended with. (Of course, the titan slowed time around Percy and moved out of the way so the demigod ended up falling down on the concrete floor. He had laughed when Percy's leg snapped again.)

The second time, Percy tried to stay calm despite his rising blood pressure. "Annabeth isn't dead," he stated, sounding sure of himself for the first time in weeks. Then Kronos showed him a video taken from a security camera outside of the apartment he stole from; Beckendorf, Silena, and Grover left the building with tear-stained cheeks, shaking their heads and putting something covered with a white sheet into the backseat of the white Camp Half Blood van. Percy screamed until his voice was hoarse. He didn't even realize that Kronos had left the room into a monster entered and hit him over the back of the head, just to shut him up.

Every time since then, Kronos has asked the same question at the end of their session. In response, Percy spat on the floor, becoming increasingly more saturated with blood.

This time, when Kronos knelt down towards the face of the felled demigod and asked him if he thought of anything new since the titan disappeared about an hour ago, Percy remained silent.

The titan of time waited a moment, then repeated his query. "Apprentice. Have you thought of anything new in regards to my previous question?"

There was no visible or auditory response; Percy kept his eyes averted and his cheek buried in the puddle of blood.

"How do you think the camp reacted to learning about the death of the daughter of Athena?" Kronos asked, restating his question in the hopes that it would spark some sort of violent rebellion that he could easily squash like a boot to an ant.

But still, there was nothing.

The titan narrowed his eyes in suspicion before they lit up with glee as he took in the situation. "You're not defying me," he breathed, hardly daring to believe his luck. "You've given up!" Kronos stared at the failure of a demigod for a long moment, a wild grin settling upon his features. He had accomplished the impossible; he had finally broken the son of Poseidon!

"I can see that you've realized that this was a lost cause on your behalf," Kronos observed casually, wanting to have a little more fun with his toy before throwing it away. "Even before the daughter of Athena died, no one in the camp trusted you anymore. No one wanted to save you. They were all too glad when you disappeared the day you arrived here; I should know, I was observing them in their little camp. But then you came back, working for me. They didn't want you around, but they couldn't have you helping the enemy either. It would be so much better for them if you just killed yourself..."

Percy blinked slowly, absorbing all of Kronos's words despite his lack of reaction. That idea was sounding pretty appealing...

"... But of course you can't do that," Kronos finished, smirking when he saw Percy's form deflate a little in apparent disappointment. "That would be too easy. Annabeth's killer shouldn't get away that easily; where is the justice in that?"

A protest formed on Percy's lips, something between a shout and an exclamation about how the titan isn't allowed to say her name. But the argument died on his tongue before it even got to his lips.

"Exactly," Kronos answered himself, hawk-like golden eyes never leaving Percy's form. "There would be no justice. So you'll either have to live here as my slave to abuse as I please..." He left the threat hanging in the air like a man destined for death. "Or you can cut your remaining ties to that foolish demigod camp you're so fond of and become my apprentice. Without disobeying my orders, this time."

Kronos straightened up, glancing down at Percy once more in the way a rich man might look down at a dirty, homeless person. "I'll give you some time to reflect upon your options." The titan turned and began to walk from the room without laying a single hand on the defeated demigod, which was disconcerting in and of itself. "Don't overthink it; I believe your choice is clear."

 

As promised, Poseidon took the demigods to Olympus before they could begin their search for the son of the sea god. The weary immortal flashed them in front of a large golden temple without fanfare, quite unusual for the Olympians to even consider. "This is Apollo's temple," Poseidon announced, dropping the hands of the demigods he was holding in order to transport the group. "Quickly- I fear we don't have much time to spare."

As a group, Poseidon ushered the five through the gaping doors of the temple and into Apollo's abode.

The inside, unexpectedly, wasn't nearly as gaudy as the outside. While the outside was gold and flashy and douchey, the inside was (dare they think it) cozy. Plush couches dotted the area, whose ceiling was low enough to give off a warm, cottage-like feeling. There were tables situated around groups of tables, with chairs splashed with a plethora of soft-looking pillows. All in all, the place looked like something you would see out of a home magazine.

"I never expected Apollo's palace to be so... Unassuming on the outside," Annabeth admitted. "I thought it would be flashy and bold, like the golden exterior."

"Even the most awesome of people need a break every now and then, Miss Chase," a voice from behind the group declared. "The god of awesomeness is no different."

The group whirled around, bar Poseidon who smirked at his nephew's trick, and faced the god of the sun. Apollo stood with his arms crossed, leaning casually against the arm of one of his many couches. Unlike the last time Annabeth saw him, there were no sunglasses adorning his face or sitting on top of his head. In fact, this Apollo looked like a completely different one than she last saw sitting on his throne in the Olympian throne room.

Apollo adjusted his orange t-shirt with the sleeves rolled partially up, as if he had been working strenuously on something, almost as if he heard Annabeth's thoughts. (Which, admittedly, wouldn't be all that surprising since he was an Olympian.) The god's blue eyes scanned the crowd, an eyebrow raised as he took in their appearances.

"Are you lot going to just stand there and gawk in the presence of your idol, or are you going to let me heal that horrid leg wound right there?"

 

Once they were seated in a room a little ways down the hall, clearly decked with hospital equipment for what was obviously the infirmary, Apollo started asking questions. "How'd you get this wound?" he asked Luke, not bothering to wonder why the traitorous son of Hermes was conspiring with Poseidon and the demigod heroes.

"Cyclops tried to kill me," Luke said bluntly, wincing as Apollo placed a wet cloth over the wound to flush out some of the dirt before he added medicine.

"I hate it when that happens," Apollo murmured, almost to himself, as he watched Luke's wound intently. After a minute, he said to the son of Hermes, "Well, the good news is that you'll live, in case you were wondering."

Luke raised an eyebrow and frowned. "Is there bad news?"

The god shrugged. "The other news is that you'll need to stay here and rest for a day or two, just so I can be sure it isn't infected. It's a miracle that you didn't make this worst somehow before you got here. I'd say it's good news that you can just chill here and bask in my glory for a day, but you can decide if the news is good or bad."

"A day or two?" Luke repeated, frowning deeply. "No, I have to leave."

Apollo placed a hand on the demigod's shoulder and shoved him back onto the white sheets of the medical cot when he tried to get up prematurely. "Sit down, Castellan, I haven't even bandaged your leg yet. And I'm sorry, but whatever you need to do will have to wait at least a day."

"Apollo, I'm afraid the demigod is speaking the truth," Poseidon intervened calmly from the side of the room where he was sitting in a comfy-looking chair. The words were spoken in a tone that bordered on monotone, giving away no emotion other than a practiced ease, but Apollo turned around nonetheless. Perhaps it was his powers telling him that a patient wasn't alright, but he caught sight of the worried expression on his uncle's face before the older god could fully hide it.

Knowing that there was only one thing that would worry Poseidon enough to support an enemy and show his fear to a public eye, Apollo nodded. "Fine. But you'll stay here for at least an hour, so at least I'll know that your stitches set in. And then you have to come back for that day or two once you save Percy."

"An hour? I don't think-"

"That sounds perfect," Poseidon interrupted, shooting a frown passed Apollo for Luke. "Especially since you have other patients besides the son of Hermes that need tending to immediately." When Apollo's forehead wrinkled with confusion, the god of the sea gestured to the other four demigods. "Your five patients have quite a story to tell you."

 

It took over an hour and a half for Apollo to remove the nanobugs from everyone's systems. The first half hour was how long it took for him to pinpoint the location of the nanobugs in Annabeth's body, because she volunteered to go first, and then figure out how to remove them safely. Once the god of healing knew the best method and proved it true on Annabeth, it only took just over an hour to repeat the process on the other three.

Once Apollo finally finished the process of removing the nanobugs from Silena, the last person to go through the process, he gave the five a long look. His blue eyed gaze lingered on Luke's bandaged leg, then on the determined faces of the other four. "Find Percy," he demanded softly yet earnestly. "Olympus won't be the same without that kid. He certainly got the awesome genes from our side of the family, Uncle P." He smiled, even if it never reached his eyes; he was too worried about his demigod cousin. "And you," he said, turning to Luke, "you better come back once you rescue Percy."

Luke nodded once, grinning lightly. For the first time since he joined Kronos's forces, hope blossomed in his chest. Sure, it was a timid force that wasn't sure how to grow, but Luke treasured it all the same. They were going to save Percy, he knew it. Besides, there was no alternative to his salvation.

"Thank you, Apollo," Poseidon said softly to his nephew, sharing a sad smile. "I'll make sure everything is taken care of once my son comes home. I'm afraid he and Luke will have to visit you together."

"Afraid? I wouldn't be surprised if Percy missed me the most and that's why he wants to visit me first," Apollo joked lightly, although Poseidon saw his own concern mirrored in those blue eyes.

More seriously, Apollo promised, "Your demigods bring Percy home, and I'll take care of him. Trust me."

"I do," Poseidon murmured. "Thank you."

Apollo nodded once to show his acknowledgement of the gratitude. Then Poseidon stepped towards the five healed demigods, one of whom was favoring his uninjured side. They formed a circle automatically, holding hands as they prepared to flash out of Apollo's temple.

"Where can we find my son?" Poseidon asked, looking at Luke with hesitant trust and the same blooming hope fluttering in all their hearts.

"Let's go back to Long Island," Luke suggested, a small smile on his face. "It's time to bring Percy home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm super busy again!! Next chapter will be up October 21. Thanks! :)


	23. Chapter 23

Third Person POV 

"Where can we find my son?" Poseidon asked, looking at Luke with hesitant trust and the same blooming hope fluttering in all their hearts.

"Let's go back to Long Island," Luke suggested, a small smile on his face. "It's time to bring Percy home."

 

Kronos hadn't returned to the room for a long time, Percy was sure. It had to be hours (unless Kronos was still screwing with his mind without being in the room, slowing time so these several hours had actually been several years or speeding it up so this eternity of hopelessness had only lasted a few seconds), but he couldn't really be certain. All he knew was that he laid down on the ground, feeling the cold, dirty concrete beneath his cheek, until the stench of puddle of blood grew to be too much for him to bear. He hoisted himself up into a sitting position, shuffling backwards until his back was against the wall opposite that of the giant screen.

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply through his nose. When his lungs protested the attempt, he decided to stick with the simple, shallow breaths he became accustomed to on the floor.

Things could be worse, he tried to tell himself. He could be fatally wounded, he could be poisoned, he could be dead... (No, forget that last one. That situation would actually be highly preferable to the one he found himself in currently. Please, death would be a mercy; he isn't allowed mercy. Not after he killed Annabeth.)

Percy must've fallen asleep (or passed out, either way), because he woke up to the sound of someone crying. It was disconcerting, to say that least, that when the sound reached his ears, he didn't immediately open his eyes or attempt to help in whatever the current situation was. Instead, he took a moment to decide whether or not this was enough to get him to open his eyes. After a long minute, he decided there'd be a better chance of it stopping if he opened his eyes.

The dim sea-green eyes of the son of Poseidon flickered around the green-lit room, searching for another form of life. It took him a moment to realize that there was no one else in the room, and another longer one to realize that the sound was coming from the screen on the other side of the room.

 

With Poseidon's help, Luke was able to lead the other demigods to the compound on Long Island. They stood in the trees, perfectly hidden from view should anyone from the compound look out and try to spot them.

Annabeth wanted to smack herself. The compound was along the route they had taken to return to camp after they were originally sent to scout out the bomb. How close had they been to saving Percy, all those months ago? She wanted to hit herself upside the head. How much of this could have been avoided if only she had asked Beckendorf to stop?

"So this is it?" Beckendorf asked, peering at the hideous building from behind a tree and breaking Annabeth from her less than constructive thoughts.

Luke nodded solemnly, face stony and jaw clenched tightly. "This is it," he declared, voice filled with contempt (though not directed at any person currently present). "I hope I never have to see it again after we break Percy out of here."

The others nodded, all of them sharing the sentiment even if they hadn't shared the same horrific experiences that Luke clearly had.

"What's our game plan?" Silena wondered aloud, looking around at the other demigods and Poseidon, eyes lingering on Luke and Annabeth the longest. The daughter of Athena was known for her excellent battle strategies, while the son of Hermes likely knew the entire layout of the building by then. It was only logical to look to the two of them for guidance.

Luke and Annabeth exchanged a glance. "You know the building better than I do," Annabeth admitted. "What do you think we should do?"

Luke hesitated for a moment, pondering. "We should definitely stay together," he finally stated. "There's no way in hell, under any circumstances, that we should split up. Even if it means we might get to Percy faster," he added, seeing Annabeth open her mouth to protest.

The blonde frowned at that, crossing her arms over her chest. "And why not? We would waste less time splitting up, and it's not like Percy has time to spare," she bit out, causing Luke to flinch.

"I know," he murmured, then repeated himself in a louder voice. "I know. But if we split up, someone is going to get hurt. Kronos has a ton of monsters roaming around this area, both in the compound and around it. If we split up, the best case scenario is that one group gets lost. The worst case scenario is that no one makes it out of there alive."

Grover's eyes shot over to the god of the sea. "What about Lord Poseidon? Can't he protect us?"

The god shook his head sadly. "I am unable to directly intervene in these affairs," he answered, tone dripping with disappointment and regret. "The most I can do is wait here, ready to transport you all back to Olympus as soon as you leave the building."

Luke nodded, almost to himself, taking it in stride. "Further proof that we should never split up," he added. "We don't want Poseidon to be so occupied sending on group that he is unable to immediately send the next. We go through this together or people will have to stay behind here, understood?"

Grover, Beckendorf, and Silena all nodded right away. After a moment and a pointed look from the son of Hermes, Annabeth nodded as well, despite her ever-present frown.

"How are we going to get into the building?" Silena asked, looking towards the entryway. They wouldn't use the front door (only a fool would barge through the front door of a heavily-guarded compound), but there were also guards located at all the doors along the wall. "Even if we take out one of the guards, another one will see us and we'll be dead before we can even get inside."

"Don't worry," Poseidon interjected with a small smile. "I can teleport you all inside the doorway, I just cannot get you any further than about five or ten feet in. But it will get you past all the guards on the outside."

"That'll be fine, Lord Poseidon," Beckendorf said politely with a grim smile. "We're going to save Percy."

The god nodded. "I know you will."

Luke cleared his throat, eradicating the semblance of warmth that had entered the area. "Lord Poseidon, if now would be a good time..."

The god nodded again. "Of course. Everyone, gather around."

The demigods grabbed each other's hands and circled around the god, preparing for their brief teleportation.

"We'll see you soon," Annabeth murmured low enough for Poseidon to hear, causing the god of the sea to smile softly at her.

"I know," he whispered. Louder, he wished them all, "Good luck," before letting them dissolve into golden light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's so short, I haven't been feeling super great and homework sucks. Next chapter will be out next weekend (Oct 28)!


	24. Chapter 24

Third Person POV

"We'll see you soon," Annabeth murmured low enough for Poseidon to hear, causing the god of the sea to smile softly at her.

"I know," he whispered. Louder, he wished them all, "Good luck," before letting them dissolve into golden light.

 

On the television screen, Percy watched as Camp Half Blood came into view. The camera focused on a gathering around the camp fire, which glowed a sad, subdued shade of yellow. Campers sat on the wooden benches, many of them holding tissues to their eyes or flowers to their chests. Clearly, this was a funeral. Someone had died.

In circumstances such as these, where Percy wouldn't bother sitting up if the punishment for disobedience was something as merciful as death, one would think it unusual that he hadn't just gone back to sleep. Especially since he woke up in the first place with the goal of stopping whatever crying had woken him, with the sole purpose of going back to sleep immediately after.

In fact, Percy himself had been about to go back to sleep on the cold, stony ground. That was when he saw the face of the daughter of Zeus.

For some reason, Thalia Grace was in Camp Half Blood. Seeing her there, in her silver hunter's garb, felt like watching some kind of weird dream where your brain mixes images from the past with ideas from the present. Thalia never willingly stepped foot in camp anymore, unless her Lady Artemis commanded it. But there didn't seem to be any other huntresses there, only Thalia.

She was sitting in the front row, right by the sadly-glowing fire. Chiron stood in his full, centaur form on her right, face solemn but eyes filled with an unfathomable sadness. While Percy noted that the old centaur always looked sad, the son of Poseidon feared he may have seen a tear roll down his mentor's cheek. Whose death would warrant such a reaction from the leader of Camp Half Blood?

Once, Percy had hoped that his loss would have such an impact on people, but now he knows that they've already started celebrating his disappearance, even though they likely know he isn't dead. (Can he blame them? At this point, he wants himself gone almost as much as they must do.)

As Percy wondered, his mind urged him to let the matter go and return to the blissful state of unconsciousness. At least in unconsciousness, the only thing that was wounded was his mental state. In unconsciousness, he didn't have to think about his physical and his mental injuries all at once. It was a little overwhelming, to say the least.

Just as he was agreeing to the voice in his head telling to him give up, Thalia's head turned towards the camera slightly. Very slightly, but it was still enough. Watery tracks caught the light from the fire, illuminating the tear-stained face and the droplets of saltwater that continued to flow from her electric blue eyes.

Thalia Grace was crying.

That fact in and of itself was enough to halt Percy entirely, so all he could do was stare at the screen in horrified confusion. What had happened in order to make the proud, stubborn, self-assured Thalia Grace into this crying girl? Percy was appalled and more than a little afraid.

Just as he thought he might as well start crying himself (because whatever shakes Thalia this bad has to be able to do worse damage to the weak son of Poseidon), Chiron stepped forwards from his place next to Thalia. He walked towards the fire, stopping a little ways away.

(In a different time, Percy would've chuckled softly to himself and said how he hoped Chiron's tale didn't burn, even if he knew that Hestia would never allow that. Not with her fire.)

"Today, we feel a deep loss within our hearts," the centaur started, his voice shaky but gaining strength as he went on, steeling his nerves. "We lost a valuable member of this camp. A sister to nearly every camper, even if not by blood, and a friend to many more, she helped lead this camp in times of trouble. She was an amazing strategist, one of the best I've had the pleasure to work with in my long career as trainer of heroes. She saved Olympus and this camp several times, as well as saving the people within it. She died trying to save another one of our campers, one that has recently gone awry. But this isn't about him and what they might have had together if only they had more time. This is about her. Today, we honor Annabeth Chase as she makes her way into Elysium."

 

"This way," Luke directed, voice hushed and frantic. When Poseidon flashed them into the compound, thankfully there had been no monsters around to brutally murder them before they even made it to Percy. However, that relief was short lived. They turned a corner, only to walk into a group of three cyclops. With a knife already in his hand, Luke slashed at one of the monsters and turned it to golden dust before the mythical creatures had time to blink their lone, giant eye. As the two remaining cyclops bellowed their rage at their fallen friend, Luke grabbed Annabeth's hand and sprinted back the way they came. Luckily, the rest of their friends followed as well.

Unfortunately, the pounding echo of feet chasing after them let the demigods know that the cyclops hadn't gotten left behind, either.

"In here!" Luke commanded, turning a corner quickly and ducking into an open door. He eased the door shut behind Beckendorf, the last person into the room, before leaning his back against the cold metal. Seeing Silena open her mouth to speak, he held a finger up in front of him then placed it before his lips, beckoning for her to remain silent for a moment more. Frowning, the daughter of Aphrodite listened to the traitor's advice despite her desire to tell him exactly where he can stick his judgmental attitude.

Luke pressed an ear to the door, listening closely. The pounding of footsteps grew louder as the cyclops ran closer, their angered shouts matching the volume of their stomping feet. The noise grew louder and louder until they were just outside their door...

The cyclops ran past.

The son of Hermes breathed a sigh of relief, closing his eyes briefly as he sagged against the door. Still, he wisely waited another moment before turning back to the others. "They're gone. And with that kind of volume, we should hear them coming from a mile away, anyways. Nothing to worry about."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at that, to which Luke quickly amended, "No reason to worry about some measly cyclops, when we have more important things to worry about."

"Do you have any idea where we are now?" Silena asked suddenly, that persistent frown forever adorning her face whenever she looked upon the son of Hermes.

Luke had the good sense to look bashful. "Well, I do know where we are. The thing is..."

"Is?" Annabeth prompted impatiently.

"I'm not quite sure how to get to Percy's room. I can figure it out though," he tried to assure.

"How quickly?" Annabeth snapped, not at all assured.

Luke opened his mouth to no doubt deliver a clever (or not so clever) lie, but a heartbreaking scream echoed through the complex. Annabeth turned pale, as if she had just looked into the face of Death.

"Not fast enough to prevent that," Luke said after a moment's hesitation. Even he looked spooked.

Silena, a little on edge after that loud cry, asked Luke without as much hostility as before, "Do you know what that was?"

Annabeth, eyes haunted and wide, answered for him. "Percy," she breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the length, next chapter is November 4, it's next Sunday.


	25. Chapter 25

Third Person POV

Silena, a little on edge after that loud cry, asked Luke without as much hostility as before, "Do you know what that was?"

Annabeth, eyes haunted and wide, answered for him. "Percy," she breathed.

 

Percy hadn't seen Kronos appear.

He was watching the video in vague boredom, interest only gathering when he saw that Thalia was crying and again when Chiron started his speech. But when the deceased camper was classified as Annabeth, his Annabeth...

A protest had formed on his lips, but he knew that Kronos couldn't be lying anymore. This TV screen hadn't shown him anything save the truth since he had been a part of Kronos's horrid gang. It couldn't start showing him lies now.

Annabeth must be dead.

"Pity, isn't it?" a deep voice murmured in false sympathy.

Percy started violently, body convulsing instinctively in the pool of blood he was sitting in. Wide green eyes watched as the golden-eyed titan crouched down next to him, examining the demigod with a small smirk settled on his borrowed face.

"Why is it that such beautiful specimens must die so young?" the titan mused, straightening himself out a moment later. Percy followed his feet as they paced back and forth in front of him.

Suddenly, he was grateful that there was a wall at his back.

Fighting the desire to spit insults at the titan for daring to talk about Annabeth, Percy stayed silent.

"If she hadn't died, I would have loved to capture her during the coming battle. Imagine the look in her gray eyes as I chained her to this very wall right here..." Kronos traced his fingers along the wall above Percy's head, causing him to shiver. "Imagine the look in her gray eyes as I did the same things to her that I've been doing to you." Percy bit his lips hard to stop himself from hurling threats in the titan's direction. "Imagine the look in her gray eyes as I forced you to torture her."

"I would never do that," Percy finally spat, unable to contain himself. The aura of apathy clouding his mind disappeared, replaced by the blinding hatred he fought down for his entire period of captivity. "I would never hurt Annabeth."

Kronos shrugged indifferently. "You say that, but isn't it your fault that she's dead?"

Percy faltered slightly, but that was all Kronos needed to regain the reigns.

"You're the one that broke protocol and started talking to her. You're the one that kept breaking protocol, even after being ordered to stand down. You're the one that couldn't control yourself. Did I force you to interact with her, your enemy? No, I specifically told you not to. Did someone else influence you into continuously interacting with her? I don't think so, Apprentice. You are supposed to listen to my commands but did you? No. You made the choice, and because of that choice, the daughter of Athena died." Kronos paused. "It was a shame, really. A brilliant mind like hers had so much to offer to the world. But you made your choice..."

He had made that choice, hadn't he. He chose to disobey Kronos without paying attention to the consequences. If he had known that Annabeth would die... He would've jumped out of that window instead of staying and talking to her. But none of his regret could bring Annabeth back from the dead. All his apologies were useless because he would never be able to apologize to her. Not unless he's dead, but even then he would end up in the Fields of Punishment. Annabeth was an angel; she was born from Elysium.

The dead sometimes had audiences with Hades. Didn't the god of the dead owe his nephew a few favors...? Maybe...

"Do you have something to say, Apprentice?" Kronos asked, interrupting Percy's thoughts with his too-knowing smirk. "By all means, don't hold your tongue on my account!"

Percy opened his mouth, intending to speak, but closed it a second later. How could he do this?

Kronos raised an eyebrow. "The son of Poseidon is a fish after all, it seems," he mocked. "Do you want to share your thoughts, or do you plan on keeping them to yourself?"

Percy just couldn't outright ask for Kronos to kill him. The titan would never agree. And if he did, he wouldn't do it the way Percy wanted it to be done. But he also couldn't ask the titan to leave a weapon in the room when he left. The being would suspect a coming revolt, even if the reality was the exact opposite. So what could he do?

"I was planning on keeping them to myself," Percy heard himself say, "especially because I don't think your tiny brain could handle it. Tell me, did you inherit Ethan's brain size when you possessed his body? Because if so, that was a terrible decision."

Somehow, pissing people off always (or almost always) got them to do what you ultimately wanted.

Or, at least, that's what Percy's entire life had told him.

He was sitting, back against the wall, waiting with blurry vision for a furious comeback which would lead to Percy's sudden, undetectable manipulation. He wasn't expecting Kronos to skip the angry exchange of words and cut straight to the violence.

The hand that smacked him across the face told him that he should've been wary of anything and everything. For a second, he had underestimated his opponent. His smarting cheek warned him not to make the mistake again.

"I see our fun is not quite over yet, Perseus Jackson!" Kronos exclaimed, voice a disturbing mixture of glee and sadism. "Here I thought you had given up, that I had lost the toy I worked so hard to steal from the other kids. But you've always defied the odds... Or, at least, that's what Luke told me."

Luke told Kronos about him? No, that can't be right. Sure, Luke was really into joining Kronos during Percy's first year in camp, when he stole Zeus's lightning bolt and actually attempted to kill Percy (several times, mind you). But after that year, the son of Poseidon thought that the son of Hermes changed his mind. He hadn't wanted to stay with Kronos, had he? Why had he schemed with Percy on how to escape? If he was telling Kronos that Percy defied all odds, this had to be more recent. It wasn't until the Battle of the Labyrinth that he was known as the camp general, the hero that couldn't be defeated.

(If only they could see him now.)

Maybe Luke hadn't wanted to tell Kronos about him. (No, he could've lied. He could've avoided the question. He didn't have to answer.)

Maybe Luke had tried to get away with a lie, but he had no choice. (There is always a choice if you're brave enough to see it. Pity Percy wasn't brave enough.)

Maybe Luke was being tortured and Kronos forced it from him. (What kind of idiot tortures their minion to get information about an enemy the minion barely knows?)

Maybe Luke was lying to him. Maybe the entire time Luke was "helping" Percy, he was turning around and reporting everything to Kronos. The plan of escape was Luke's idea to get Percy to commit treason against his new lord, or maybe the idea was fueled by the lord himself. Did the titan want to see what Percy would do? Did it amuse him to see the demigod scrambling for hope in all the wrong places, only to get denied in the end?

But Kronos hit Luke. No, not hit, he threw Luke into a wall. And you don't throw your trusted minions into walls.

But Kronos is a powerful titan, older than the gods themselves. Hell, he is their father, of course he would have more power. Maybe he was able to make it took like Luke crashed into the wall, wounding the son of Hermes horribly, and leaving him to die. In actuality, Luke was faking it. Or maybe that wasn't even Luke to begin with, that was a monster disguised as the son of Hermes.

Luke was probably still in the compound, serving Kronos, fully content to let the son of Poseidon think him dead. After all, they weren't friends. Not really.

Percy wasn't sure if he wanted to cry or if he wanted to scream. He settled for silence.

Kronos smirked down at the son of Poseidon, clearly seeing the turmoil in his mind. "Was it not enough that you had to be the literal death of your dear friend, Annabeth Chase? Do you think that, even if Luke was ever your friend, he would want to see you after what you did? You are the sole being responsible for the death of the daughter of Athena. She was Luke's best friend. I almost wish he was calm enough to come in here and end your pathetic life himself."

Percy flinched, even as he tried to stop it. Don't let them know you're weak, he tried to tell him. His mantra didn't really work, especially since he couldn't shift his thoughts from "gods, so this is the mighty son of Poseidon".

Kronos, seeing the flinch and the anguish written across his prisoner's face, shrugged. "Yes, I almost wish Luke was able to join us. He certainly had enough to say about your lack of worth and your complete disrespect for anything he holds valuable. He wanted me to pass along his wish for your death. Preferably sooner, rather than later."

And if that didn't sound like the best idea he'd heard in a long time... Percy shook his head. He had no way of doing it. It would hurt too much to dream of it and then lack the reality. Kronos wouldn't let him die.

As soon as he thought that, a celestial bronze knife blade flickered into life in the hand of the titan. Bringing the knife up to his golden eyed gaze, Kronos studied the blade, taking in the way the light glinted off it. "I suppose I can't have an angry mutiny on my hands, can I?" He mused, more to himself than to the son of Poseidon.

Percy's eyes didn't leave the flashing blade, the sharp metal catching the green artificial light and running with it.

"The overwhelming opinion is that I should simply put you out of your misery," Kronos informed, eying the knife and the dancing light with a wicked fascination. Percy's eyes traced the movements, green orbs never once straying from the course. "Of course, I think it would be more satisfying to watch someone else do the job for me."

Before Percy could wonder what the sadistic titan meant, Kronos flicked the celestial blade from his hand. It landed on the cement ground, inches from where Percy was sitting. If he reached out his hand, he could touch the cool metal.

His fingers twitched, but he forced himself to remain still.

"Pick it up," Kronos commanded, eyes watching his prisoner like a hawk. "Don't try to tell yourself that you don't want to hold it in your hands, to feel the smooth metal beneath your fingers. Pick it up."

Slowly, Percy obeyed.

The metal was so smooth, just as Kronos promised. It felt so nice, nestled into the palm of his blood-stained hand. Like it was meant to be there.

"Trace the edge," Kronos demanded. "See how sharp it is. I watched you watch it cut through the light. How sharp must it be to slice cleanly through light itself?"

A small voice in the back of his head was screaming at him, but Percy ignored it. It sounded vaguely like Annabeth, but she was dead. She had no right to haunt his thoughts.  
Lifting up a trembling digit, he traced the length of the blade. Blood pooled from the thin gash, trickling down his finger and dripping into the pool already beneath him.

"Isn't it so nice?" Kronos asked, voice hushed with awe. Percy thought he detected a bit of cruel smugness smuggled in there, but a new voice told him to ignore it. (This voice sounded a lot like the voice of the titan standing in front of him, but he didn't want to put too much thought into it. Especially since the voice told him not to.)

Percy found himself nodding listlessly, answering the question without being fully aware that he had even heard it.

"Imagine how it would feel to slide that between your ribs."

Suddenly, Percy couldn't think of anything else. The knife tucked between his ribs, settled between his eyes, drawing a waterfall from his throat.

His hand twitched.

"Ah, don't get so excited, Apprentice," Kronos warned, grinning wickedly. "Your use to me is limited as it is, currently, but you would be so much more useful should you put that knife to work. Imagine how it would feel, leaving this all behind. Free, blissful, floating. Don't you want to be free?"

He did. Gods, he did. He didn't want anything else.

"All you have to do it one simple thing. I already gave you all the tools to your freedom. You just have to take the jump."

Could he do it? He looked down at the knife, fingers wrapped around its bronze hilt. He could do it. Should he? Annabeth was dead and Luke hated him. Camp no doubt loathed him and Olympus probably had a bounty hanging over his head.

Slowly, the knife rose. When it reached the height of Percy's heart, the hand froze, the knife within it shaking and sending fragments of light everywhere.

"Don't you want to see Annabeth again?"

The hand steadied. Taking a deep breath, Percy closed his eyes.

He didn't see the maniacal grin that shot across Kronos's face, nor did he see the satisfied, sadistic gleam in his eyes. He didn't see the knife about to plunge into his chest, but oh did he feel it. For the last time, Percy screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> November 12 will be the next chapter update! :)


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys.... So I know I said I'd update last weekend, but I temporarily lost hearing in my left ear so I couldn't do my homework and then I couldn't finish the chapter. Which I feel SO terrible about and I'm so sorry I didn't tell you guys but I didn't want to take up a whole chapter talking about my failures cause isn't that cheerful? Anyways, next chapter will be this Sunday! (And I don't expect anything terrible to happen again so we should be good)

Third Person POV 

"Don't you want to see Annabeth again?"

The hand steadied. Taking a deep breath, Percy closed his eyes.

He didn't see the maniacal grin that shot across Kronos's face, nor did he see the satisfied, sadistic gleam in his eyes. He didn't see the knife about to plunge into his chest, but oh did he feel it. For the last time, Percy screamed.

 

"How do you know that was Percy?" Silena asked, looking at the pale daughter of Athena with wide eyes. She was sure they all looked frazzled in the wake of the scream. "How do you know?"

Annabeth ignored the growing desperation evident in her friend's voice. Hesitating for a moment, she slowly answered, "Because it felt like it stabbed me in the heart. I don't know what else could do that, to that degree. It had to be Percy."

The others turned their eyes to the son of Hermes, who looked just as haunted as the blonde next to him. Seeing their wordless question, he nodded. Carefully choosing his words, he said, "I've been here too long. I'm ashamed to say that I've heard so many of these screams that I can probably categorize the screams by the victim, the instrument used to cause pain, and the level of severity. There is no doubt in my mind that that scream belonged to Percy."

"Do you know what caused it, then?" Beckendorf asked quickly, not wanting to bother with cosmetic concerns such as the social miscommunications between once-friends. "If you've heard all these screams, then what was that one?" His tone lacked any accusation, harboring only concern and a rarely-seen fear.

Following Beck's cue not to waste any time, Luke shook his head. "I wish I did, but I've never heard that before. Percy didn't scream often, at least not from what I could hear, and when he did it always lacked emotion." He shook his head again, in defeat or sadness Annabeth couldn't tell. "This... This was a scream of regret. Of death."

The son of Hermes locked eyes with the others gathered in the small area. "We need to find him, now. While there's still something living left to find."

 

Kronos gazed down at the motionless form at his feet with a quirk of his lips. "You really were the child of the prophecy, Perseus Jackson, weren't you? A hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap/ a single choice shall end his days/ Olympus to preserve or raze," The titan recited softly to himself in the room.

He took half a step forwards and crouched low to the body, accidently placing a pristine black shoe into the growing pile of blood surrounding the son of Poseidon. Ignoring this for the moment, Kronos reached out a tan hand and traced the length of Percy's cold, pale face. "You were the Ophiotaurus I needed to kill in order to finally bring the gods to their knees once and for all. Your days might be over, but that one act ensured that mine would continue for all eternity."

The titan rose, seeing for the first time his shoe in the pool of blood. Wrinkling his nose distastefully, he stepped back and attempted to smear the blood into the cold concrete of the floor.

As if just remembering the son of Poseidon sitting there, Kronos looked at him once more with those insidious, golden eyes. "Thank you, Apprentice."

With no more words to be said, Kronos turned and stalked from the room, his one shoe leaving a trail of bloody, red footprints.

 

"We should've turned a few doors back!"

"We can't turn this way, this is probably where the Cyclops went earlier!"

"How do we know you're not leading us to our deaths?"

"When was the last time you memorized the layout of an evil titan's lair? Don't tell me how to do my job!"

Annabeth listened as her friends erupted into bits of argument as they hurried down the hallways. Beck frowned at Grover, who bleated fearfully and angrily in return. Silena poked Luke in the arm harshly, while he avoided his accusations with his own stern statements. The only one not partaking in the effort was Annabeth, who was too concerned with the limited span of time Percy might have left to focus on quarreling.

Finally, their harsh jabs became too much. After Silena delivered a particularly nasty blow to Luke's ego, Annabeth stopped walking and shouted, "Enough!"

The others skidded to a halt a few paces in front of her. Luke frowned, worried, and warned, "Annabeth, keep your voice down. There's monsters all over the compound that are much stealthier than those Cyclops earlier. If they hear you..."

"Hear me?" Annabeth repeated, incredulous. "You're worried about them hearing me? How about the monsters hearing you four bickering and fighting each other as you stomp your feet on the ground in a vague attempt at what a normal person would call running? What about that?"

"Annabeth-" Silena tried, but the daughter of Athena cut her off.

"No, we've wasted enough time already arguing over everything else. We don't need to argue over this too. Percy could be dying or worse, already dead, and you're all wandering along squabbling over whose job it is to do what. Which one of you wants to be the one to go outside and tell Poseidon to give up on getting his son back, because we were too busy with our heads stuck up our asses to look around and get stuff done? Because I sure don't want to have to tell an already worried father that his son is never coming home. Now unless you want him to kill you too, make an effort to focus long enough to find Percy."

Angry tears brewing in the corners of her stormy gray eyes that swirled with emotion, Annabeth stalked forwards and past the four demigods that gawked at her. Her shoulders shoved Beckendorf and Luke out of her way, shaking them from their shock. Having the good graces to look ashamed, the four followed after the daughter of Athena.

No one spoke for a long moment, none of the demigods eager to witness for a second time the rage of a daughter of Athena when she has her mind set to something. Annabeth, too far lost in her worried and angry mind, chose not to speak either. Finally, already cringing, Luke spoke.

"Annabeth, do you know which way you're going?"

The blonde girl faltered slightly in her steps, but never stopped moving. Without turning around, she simply stated, "Yes."

"... How?"

"I'm following where the scream came from," she answered shortly.

"But Kronos might have-"

"Kronos might have done a lot of things," Annabeth snarled, stopping so quickly and whirling around so fast that Luke didn't have any time to cower behind Beckendorf. "Kronos might have tricked us into hearing a scream. Kronos might have moved Percy to a different compound before we even got here. Hell, Kronos might have killed Percy already! How do we know he hasn't?"

Although the thought had passed through all of their brains, no one was foolish enough to say anything.

After a pause in which she waited for them to answer, Annabeth spoke, her voice considerably softer. "We can't go on wondering about what might have happened. I know what I heard, and if that was an illusion then I'll skin Kronos myself and feed him to Cerberus." Ignoring the horrified and shocked looks on her friends' faces, Annabeth continued, "But if that wasn't an illusion, then we all just heard Percy scream. I don't want that to be the last thing I ever heard from him."

Surprisingly, Annabeth didn't spin around and march off (again). Instead, she stood there, shoulders heaving as she took in the expressions on her friends' faces. None of them seemed willing to voice their opinions until Silena stepped forwards and laid a hand on Annabeth's shoulder.

"We're with you," she announced. "Lead the way."

It couldn't have been another minute until they stopped again. Annabeth was about to pass by the door, but something halted her steps. It might have been Luke's hushed gasp, but it was more likely that her eye caught the hint of scarlet peeking out from under the door.

"Wait," Annabeth called, stopping the others (bar Luke) as well. Her eyes sought out the blue eyes of the son of Hermes, seeking confirmation. "What is it?"

Luke broke eye contact, staring at the metal door before them. "This is the room where..." He swallowed hard. "Horrible things happened here."

"Is that blood?" Silena spoke up suddenly, her voice awfully small.

"It smells like blood," Grover nearly whimpered.

A semicircle of red liquid pointed away from the door, down the hallway. Two steps away was a fading oval, though it seemed like the substance either started to dry or there was less to be pressed into the flooring. Either way, Annabeth crept silently to the door, heart in her mouth.

"When I open it," she whispered, "no one move. Arrange yourselves out of view, right now!"

Following her command, the demigods hide out of sight of anyone that might look out the soon-to-be-open door. Standing right beside the door handle, Annabeth looked around at her friends before slowly reaching a hand out to turn the knob. Her fingers grasped the cool metal, twisting it gently. With a soft push, the door swung open silently.

They waited a moment, but there were no sounds from within the room. Cautiously, Annabeth poked her head into the room. The others waited anxiously, looking for some kind of sign that either the room was clear or there were hostiles.

All they got was a shriek, then Annabeth disappeared.

"Annabeth?" Luke shouted, worried more about the daughter of Athena that he saw as a sister than for the safety of everyone else. He began to creep forwards from his hiding spot, intent on following her into the room she vanished into.

"Luke, what if it's a trap?" Grover murmured, eyes darting around in suspicion as he laid a hand on the shoulder of the son of Hermes.

Luke shrugged of the satyr. "I don't care if it's a trap," he snapped at his old friend. "Annabeth just went in there and we would be cowards not to follow her."

Without glancing back, the son of Hermes walked to the door, weapon drawn, before slipping inside.

The three remaining teenagers shared a look. Beckendorf nodded at them slowly, showing his agreement with what Luke said. Immediately after, Silena joined his side. Grover, still reluctant to run into danger, was the last to agree. Nevertheless, he too nodded his head before more than twenty seconds had passed since Luke disappeared.

"Quick," Beck urged softly, leading the way. The three crept towards the door, weapons at the ready. As one, they peeked into the room.

Someone's dagger slipped from their fingers and clattered against cold concrete. "Percy?"


	27. Chapter 27

Third Person POV

The three crept towards the door, weapons at the ready. As one, they peeked into the room.

Someone's dagger slipped from their fingers and clattered against cold concrete. "Percy?"

 

The first thing they noticed were the footprints. Etched onto the concrete with crimson blood that glinted in the eerie green lighting of the room, they moved towards the door and away from the back wall of the room. The prints were driest closest to the door, with the ones farther away still glistening with wet liquid, as if the criminal had recently stalked away from his crime.

His crime pertaining to the unmoving son of Poseidon leaning against the far wall.

Grover had to swallow back the bile rising in his throat at the sight of his best friend. His feet carried him forwards, his mind unconscious of it all except for his increasing horror as he took in the scene.

Percy was paler than Grover had ever seen him, his skin without any of its usual tan glow. His sea-green eyes hid themselves behind paper-thin eyelids that clung to the orbs they protected. He wore all black, just like the last time Grover had seen him (was that only hours ago? It felt like it was years ago.), but he was mysteriously without the navy blue mask he had been wearing last time the demigods cornered him.

Worst of all was the dagger handle sticking out of Percy's chest, right where his heart would be.

One of Percy's hands rested lazily on the hilt buried in his torso, as if to stop it from entering. At least he put up a fight, Grover thought darkly before a chilling thought occurred to him. Or maybe the hand was still resting on the hilt because Percy was the one to stick the dagger there.

Either Annabeth Chase hadn't seen the dagger embedded in Percy's chest or she chose to ignore it, because she was currently taking a the pulse of the dead corpse. (As much as Grover wished it not to be true, the only thing Percy could be right now is dead.) Luke kneeled on Percy's right side, easing Percy's left hand off the dagger gently and placing it in his blood-soaked lap.

"Annabeth," Grover murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "Annabeth, there's no use. Annabeth..."

Grover's heart broke to see the strong daughter of Athena in such a state. He doubted his words even registered in her mind; all that mattered to her right now was the fact that they were too late. Too fucking late to save the life of the son of Poseidon.

The satyr heard soft taps against concrete behind him, then Beckendorf and Silena were standing next to him. The trio was only a few feet, maybe two yards, from the corpse of their friend. (Grover didn't think he could get any closer without vomiting. The stench of blood filled the room, rising up from the pool of blood the body was sitting in. (He couldn't think of the corpse as once being the body of Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon- it might break him.))

Beckendorf laid a large hand on Grover's shoulder, showing his sympathy in one of the only ways he knew how in this sort of situation. (And wasn't it horribly depressing that Grover was already categorizing this tragedy in his mind?) Silena nodded at the satyr and her boyfriend, tears brewing in her beautiful eyes as she stepped past them and towards the daughter of Athena.

"Annabeth," she said, voice even softer than Grover's was, "you need to stop. He's... There's nothing we can do for him now."

Annabeth didn't react to the daughter of Aphrodite until Silena placed a delicate hand on Annabeth's shoulder, just like Beckendorf had with Grover. Annabeth froze.

"There must be something," Annabeth muttered desperately, hand already outstretched to take Percy's pulse from his neck instead of his wrist. "He can't be... There must be something."

"Annabeth..." Silena trailed off, shooting a searching look at Luke. The son of Hermes kept his head down, absolutely no help to the others. Silena sighed. "Annabeth, don't make me say it."

The daughter of Athena stiffened under her friend's fingers. "No," she murmured, volume quieter than air.

A tear traced its way down Silena's perfect face. "He's dead, Annabeth."

A moment of silence prevailed, everyone visibly struggling to accept these words, even spoken aloud. (Wasn't it supposed to be easier with the words spoken aloud?) Then, suddenly, Annabeth exploded.

"No!" She cried, pushing away the daughter of Aphrodite. "I refuse to believe that! He's always defied the odds before, why should now be any different?"

Watching sadly as Annabeth bent down to take his pulse from his neck, Silena offered, "Maybe that's because he's never been at war with himself before."

Annabeth ignored her friend as easily as she did upon discovery of the body. Her fingers found the groove between Percy's neck and his jaw, where it was best to take one's pulse. Her index finger and her middle finger nestled themselves in the groove, waiting. Annabeth prayed to every god she knew that they weren't too late. Percy had to have one last miracle to give.

"Annabeth," someone called from behind her, but the daughter of Athena didn't do anything. She held her breath, hoping and praying. Praying to every god, hoping against hope that there was still something in life to hope for.

Thud.

Something beat against Annabeth's two fingers. She barely suppressed a gasp, a startled shriek, a shout of joy. Had she imagined it? She remained still, squeezing her eyes closed as she waited for the miracle to repeat itself.

The others looked on in confusion. Suddenly, Annabeth had stilled herself. Grover was convinced that she was no longer breathing, and her gray eyes were shut against the horrors of the world. But she didn't retract her hand from Per- the neck of the corpse. (He can't say his name. Not yet. Maybe not ever.)

After a frightening moment during which neither Beck nor Grover saw Annabeth's chest rise or fall, Beckendorf ventured, "Annabeth?"

Surprisingly, she responded by taking the unoccupied hand and lifting up a single finger. (Thankfully not the middle finger.) She wanted them to wait for a minute.

For what? Grover wanted to ask, but suddenly his voice felt so small in the crushing silence of the room. He kept quiet, hoping that he wasn't making a horribly stupid decision.

There was a lull of silence, each person questioning their own sanity as well as that of the daughter of Athena. Suddenly, like a gun shot on a quiet winter night, Annabeth exclaimed, "There it is!"

Silena blinked a few times in rapid fire. "... What? What was it, Annabeth?" She asked, voice gentle. Clearly she had already decided that, in the wake of this tragedy, Annabeth's mind wasn't holding up quite well.

"He has a pulse," Annabeth murmured softly, then repeated it louder, voice full of hope. "He has a pulse!"

"What?" Luke said, speaking up for the first time since entering the room. The son of Hermes raised his head, slowly standing himself up. He scooted around the motionless body, coming to stand where Annabeth was standing. Tentatively, he reached a hand out. "May I?" he asked hesitantly.

Annabeth nodded. She took her hand away, allowing Luke's to replace it.

Everyone waited with bated breath, wondering if Annabeth was merely insane or if there was actual hope that Percy Jackson was still, somehow, miraculously, alive.

Luke gasped. "I-I felt something!" He breathed. "I don't know how, but I felt a pulse!"

"Impossible." Beckendorf frowned, concern etched onto his face. Annabeth might've made up the idea in her desperate hope to find a living son of Poseidon in the room. Luke might've fallen for the delusion. There was simply no way someone with a dagger sticking out of their chest, sitting in a pool of blood, could be alive. There was no way.

Nonetheless, Beckendorf stepped towards the son of Hermes. "Excuse me," he said not unkindly, muscling his way to the body. Snatching Luke's hand away, Beck instead laid his dark-skinned fingers against Percy's neck and waited.

The others watched, Annabeth and Luke with blatant hope shining on their faces while Grover and Silena looked skeptical. They wanted Percy to be alive, don't misunderstand, but delusions would get them no where except to disappointment. Annabeth and Luke confirming the idea was one thing; Beck would be the deciding factor.

"I felt something," the son of Hephaestus whispered under his breath after a moment's pause. "I think I feel a pulse. It's weak and it's slow but I think it's there." He turned to his two uncertain friends, eyes practically glowing with joy and faith. "Percy Jackson is alive."

 

Poseidon was beginning to get impatient. (He would say impatient; it sounded better than worried.) What was taking the demigods so long? Had they reached Percy by now? Had they encountered trouble? Gods, he hoped that they hadn't encountered Kronos. But even if they had, wouldn't the titan know Poseidon was waiting outside for them? They all bore the signature residue from his powers when he teleported them here. Kronos would know that Poseidon was somehow involved. If the titan already killed them all, he would've come to gloat.

So, at least one of the heroes must be alive. If anything, Percy would bet on Annabeth Chase. There was a reason his son loved her, and it wasn't just for her looks. (Sons of the sea had better taste than to focus on only a woman's looks.) Annabeth Chase was easily the smartest child Athena ever spawned. If anyone would get his son back, it would be Annabeth.

Which takes Poseidon back to his earlier dilemma. Where were they? What could have stalled them for so long? Even if all of them died except for one, that one would still do everything in their power to save Percy. Right? Why did the sea god have such a terrible feeling in his stomach, then?

The mighty god began to pace back and forth, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, all the while keeping an eye on the door. Any minute now, the demigods would come running from the door with his son safely jogging back with them.

Poseidon waited, pacing. He glanced up at the sky, sea green eyes seeking the reassuring openness that reminded him of a cheap version of the ocean. He bet his brother was frowning down at him, trying to remind him that Percy Jackson was still a felon. He was to be captured and killed on sight. Poseidon was breaking Olympian law.

He didn't care. All he wanted was his son back. He wanted to march down the street in Manhattan, stroll up to Sally's apartment, and tell her with a big smile that after all these months, their boy was finally home. She would cry and her knees would buckle and she would fall into his arms, and he would hold her close one more time. He loved her, he always would, but he was happy that she was finding love in the mortal world too.

She deserved it. Sally Jackson deserved everything.

Poseidon paced back and forth, constantly fidgeting with his arms. He crossed and uncrossed them, swing them idly, and threw them about. Where were the demigods? Why weren't they here yet?

With a sharp intake of breath, Poseidon twisted his head towards the compound. Had he just heard...?

There it was! Like a dull throbbing in his ear, the sound of footsteps hitting concrete grew louder as the seconds passed. It was only through the miracle of having godly hearing to match everything else that Poseidon detected the sounds. They were coming! The demigods were returning!

The god of the sea had a brief moment of panic in the midst of his elation. Had they found Percy? If so, what shape was his son in? Was Kronos right on their heels, or was this an illusion from the titan of time? Was his mind playing tricks on him? What if one of the demigods didn't return, how would he explain that to their parent?

Before the sea god could think himself further into a panic attack, five figures appeared from the shadows of the doorway, running towards the tree line where Poseidon was waiting.

His heart sank. Five people went in, six were supposed to come out. That's what a rescue mission was, wasn't it? He saw the telltale blonde ponytail of the daughter of Athena and felt a rush of relief. At least he wouldn't explain to Athena how he killed her daughter on a secret mission.

The closer he looked at the faces, the more it seemed apparent that none of the five figures had the same sea green eyes as the god. Percy was not exiting the compound with his friends.

Fighting back tears, Poseidon took a moment before the demigods arrived to check again. No, none of the runners wore sea green eyes and jet black hair. Either they hadn't found Percy or... there was nothing to save.

"Poseidon!" Annabeth called as the demigods were about to breach the tree line. "Poseidon, come quick!"

Frowning, he stepped forwards. Was one of them injured? Now that he looked past their faces, he paled to see the bright blood coating each of them in at least one area. Annabeth and Luke appeared to be the most covered.

"Good gods, are you all right?" he asked, hurrying towards them.

"We're fine," Annabeth quickly deflected, coming to a slow, gentle stop. "But Percy needs help."

Poseidon opened his mouth to ask what the girl was talking about, when she slowly lowered herself to kneel on the ground. She deposited her cargo in the grass, the son of Hermes lowering himself to rest the same load. The god blinked. In his haste to spot his son in the runners, he hadn't noticed that the blondes were running a set distance apart, holding something between them.

A pale, nearly dead body belonging to the one and only Percy Jackson.

Swallowing his tears and his horror, Poseidon barked, "To Olympus!" In a flash, the seven beings disappeared from the trees. The only sign that they were ever there was a line of trampled grass and a dark stain of blood in the dirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> December 9 is the next chapter! Thanks!! :)


	28. Chapter 28

Third Person POV

A pale, nearly dead body belonging to the one and only Percy Jackson.

Swallowing his tears and his horror, Poseidon barked, "To Olympus!" In a flash, the seven beings disappeared from the trees. The only sign that they were ever there was a line of trampled grass and a dark stain of blood in the dirt.

 

Whistling, Apollo danced to the music in his head as he tidied the infirmary in his temple. The demigods left almost an hour ago with Poseidon, and while the sun god could snap his fingers and the infirmary would be clean, he enjoyed the monotonous task of cleaning it himself. Every once in a while, at least. There were some times when the god just couldn't be bothered.

He was just putting away the final roll of bandages when something fell with a shatter in the hallway outside the room.

"Fuck, what was that?" Apollo muttered under his breath, stowing the bandages in their spot before hurrying to investigate. He pushed open the door and promptly collided with the personification of the ocean.

"Uncle P!" Apollo greeted, torn between a smile and a frown. What was the sea god doing back here so soon? Apollo was about to ask when he saw the gathering behind his uncle.

Immediately, he pushed past Poseidon and hurried towards the demigods. Most of them wore blood like it was part of their clothing, but that wasn't what concerned Apollo. (Alright, that did concern him greatly. It just didn't take top priority at the moment.) No, instead, he walked straight towards the blonde daughter of Athena he operated on earlier.

Apollo glanced down at the pale body that looked like a corpse. A knife protruding from his torso, anyone would've thought that the demigod was dead. Anyone, that is, except the god of medicine.

"Bring him into the room. Quickly!" He barked, ushering the girl to the room he had just cleaned. The sun god met the worried eyes of the god of the sea as he turned around. 

Answering the unspoken question, he said, "I'll try my best."

Then the god of the sun and the daughter of Athena disappeared into the room.

 

"It's been too long," Poseidon muttered to himself, but loudly enough for everyone else to hear, as he paced back and forth in the hallway of Apollo's temple. "It should be over by now."

"Lord Poseidon," Grover tried, not standing up from his seat on the ground, "Lord Apollo is probably trying his best. These things take time; it's only been an hour."

The sea god continued pacing as if he hadn't heard the satyr. "Apollo said he would try his best. It shouldn't have taken this long. It's been too long. Something's wrong..."

Carefully, Silena stood up from her spot on the marble floor. "Poseidon," she tried, forgoing formalities, "you need to calm down." Seeing no result, she tried a different tactic. Pouring every ounce of charmspeak she had into her words, she said, "Calm down."

The tension immediately drained from the hallway. Grover and Luke sagged against the walls behind them, while Beckendorf leaned closer to the daughter of Aphrodite. Poseidon paused in his journey back and forth in the hallway, staring at the demigod. He said nothing.

Finally, just as Silena was beginning to think that maybe she should just sit down, Poseidon nodded slowly. "You're right, I need to calm down." Heaving a sigh from his lips, the ancient god sank to the floor besides the door he had been protecting for the past hour.

The daughter of Aphrodite watched the god warily for a minute or two, just to make sure he didn't jump up and attempt to start his pacing anew. But the god remained on the ground, defeated, waiting for either his son to emerge with wonderful news or his nephew to appear with a tragedy on his lips.

 

Silena was just dozing off against Charlie's shoulder when the door across the hall opened. She perked up, blinking away the sleep that was so close to claiming her. Her hand flew down, landing on Charlie's knee as she urged him back to alertness.

Across from the demigods, Poseidon jumped to his feet. "Apollo," he greeted the emerging god impatiently. Poseidon's eyes shot to the area behind his nephew, searching for his son.

The god of the sun clearly saw this motion. He sighed, easing the door shut behind him. There was a small click as it slid back into place fully, but in the near-silence of the marble hallway it sounded as loud as throwing something to the ground.

The demigods that were sitting on the ground all rose to their feet. Grover's eyes kept darting around to everyone's faces, never staying on one for more than a second at a time. Luke, who hadn't said much since they recovered Percy, rose slowly, still leaning against the wall for support. Silena and Beckendorf rose together, each supporting the other as they stared only at the two gods.

No one dared speak. Finally, Apollo broke the silence.

"Percy was in rough shape when you brought him in," the god of the sun started, meeting the gaze of each of the demigods before looking only to Poseidon. "I'm not quite sure what happened to him during his entire... Absence, but I know that none of it was good."

Luke visibly winced. Apollo's eyes darted to the son of Hermes, but seeing no physical injuries on the demigod, he turned back to his godly uncle.

"That knife, though..."

The god trailed off, losing himself in the search for the next words to say. As he scrambled to complete his sentence, Grover snapped. "Just tell us how he is, already! Is he alive?"

Apollo paused and stared at the normally reserved satyr. Seeing that the teen was at his wit's end, the god stopped his search for words. He sighed once more. Then, he said, "Percy Jackson is alive."

Poseidon sagged against the wall in relief as his legs seemed to no longer support his body weight. Grover grinned wearily, seeming like he had expected this the entire time. Next to him, Luke stared at the god in shock, as if he had expected anything but the answer he got. Silena and Beckendorf exchanged relieved smiles, both of them clinging to the other.

Apollo quickly put up a hand. "Wait, don't celebrate too soon." Immediately, the smiles fell from everyone's faces. "I tried my hardest, but Percy is in really bad shape. The knife... A centimeter to the left and he would've died within the minute of receiving the wound." Apollo's brow furrowed as he added, "It's strange, really... There's a tiny puncture right where the knife would've killed him, but not like a needle. Like the tip of the knife almost went through there." He shook his head to dispel the idea. "Enough theorizing. Percy is alive, and his physical condition is stable right now. I can't speak on his mental state. I'm sorry I couldn't do more, Poseidon."

The sea god clasped a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You saved his life, Apollo. That is all I could ask of you." The god hesitated briefly. "Could I see him?"

Apollo looked at his uncle, hesitating before he nodded. "He's unconscious, but of course." He looked at the others, too. "The room should be big enough that you guys can go in if you'd like."

"I think they'd like to," Poseidon answered for the demigods. "After all, they're the reasons he's alive."

Apollo nodded. "Go ahead. I have to check on something real quick, but let me know if you need me. Just shout for me and I'll hear."

"Thank you, Apollo," Poseidon repeated, watching his nephew walk down the hallway. "I'll call for you if anything changes."

The sun god nodded, then he disappeared around the corner.

Poseidon looked to the demigods, his son's friends. "If you do not wish to enter, you may remain out here. None of us will think less of you for doing so."

The demigods exchanged glances, then nodded. "We're going in," Silena said, no room for argument in her voice.

Poseidon fought a small smile. "Very well." He walked forwards, taking a steadying breath. Then, he pushed open the door to the infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was painfully short and I'm super sorry but I was busier than I thought I'd be. Next chapter will be December 23, the Sunday before Christmas. Sorry it's so short!!


	29. Chapter 29

Third Person POV

The demigods exchanged glances, then nodded. "We're going in," Silena said, no room for argument in her voice.

Poseidon fought a small smile. "Very well." He walked forwards, taking a steadying breath. Then, he pushed open the door to the infirmary.

 

The first thing Poseidon noticed was the blinding emptiness. The room was fairly large, but the white paint on the walls made it seem much more so. There wasn't much in this room, either; just a bed, a few chairs, and some miscellaneous medical equipment that probably had some kind of use somewhere.

And the bed looked oh so empty, even though there was clearly a person it in.

The only parts of Percy visible in the bed were his hair and his face, but his face was so pale that it nearly blended into the white sheets of the bed. However, his inky black hair remained a stark contrast.

On the side of the bed, there were two chairs. One was occupied by a blonde girl wearing a clear, flimsy apron, blood stains showing clearly on it and on the other side of it. The chair next to her was empty.

Poseidon quickly made his way over to the unoccupied metal folding chair, seating himself carefully in it. He looked to the girl next to him, then at the demigods that followed him in. "If you ask Apollo for more chairs, I'm sure he could find you some."

Luke nodded wordlessly and stepped back out of the room, likely to look for the sun god. Silena, Beck, and Grover stayed back, near the door, observing silently.

No one liked the look of the demigod lying on the bed. Had Apollo not already delivered the good news that he was alive, they would've thought they were looking at Percy's corpse.

"Apollo says that he thinks Percy might wake up soon," Annabeth said into the silence, not taking her eyes of the motionless body of her best friend.

Poseidon glanced over at her, then nodded. "He says it's a miracle Percy survived."

The daughter of Athena nodded morosely.

Poseidon hesitated, wondering how his next words would be received. "When Apollo came to get us, he was speculating about Percy's injury."

Slowly, Annabeth looked at the god out of the corner of her eye before returning her gaze to Percy. "What was he saying?"

"He was wondering about the nature of the injury," Poseidon said, glancing over at Percy's three friends standing by the door. "You helped him dress the wound, correct?" At Annabeth's nod, he asked, "Did you see anything odd?"

The female demigod hesitated, causing Poseidon to ask a more clarifying question.

"Did you see two wounds, one with the knife and one next to it?"

Annabeth was silent for a moment, and Poseidon thought she wasn't going to answer. Then, in a whisper, she said, "Yes."

Poseidon nodded, expecting that answer. He waited, then he said, "I think Percy tried to kill himself."

The silence that filled the room was different from the earlier one, from when they first walked in. That silence was sad and somber. This new silence was stifling, suffocating, and carrying an intense and needy fear.

"What?" someone finally managed to spit out. Poseidon turned to look at the trio in the back. Silena stared at the sea god, clutching Beckendorf's arm, but it wasn't her that spoke.

"Percy wouldn't do that," Grover reaffirmed, eyes wide and fearful. He looked like the only thing that could reassure him was Percy. Since his son was... indisposed at the moment, Poseidon stepped up.

"Percy was gone for a long time," Poseidon soothed. "We have no way of knowing what he went through in that place or what was done to him unless he tells us. From what Luke said, it might've been enough that the idea of coming home was just too distant a possibility. My father has always been a master of manipulation; it might not have even been Percy's idea."

"Why do you think he tried to kill himself?" Annabeth asked, finally turning her troubled gray eyes to the old sea god. "What proof do you have?" Her tone wasn't accusatory, nor was it curious. Instead, it was simply soft and sad. Even if he wasn't planning on answering her question, Poseidon felt obliged to provide context.

"Apollo said there were two wounds, and then you confirmed it. He said one was the actual wound, miraculously missing a vital place that would've killed Percy nearly immediately. The second wound was placed at the vital point. Maybe that was where Percy was about to stab himself. Maybe his hand slipped or the knife moved in his grasp, but I would bet anything that Percy deliberately moved the knife a little to the side. Subconsciously, even as he was trying to kill himself, he didn't want to die. He still had hope."

Sometime during Poseidon's explanation, Annabeth had looked away again. Her eyes were once against trained on the unmoving son of Poseidon, bar the gentle rise and fall of the white sheets hiding his chest. Without looking away, she said softly, "He wouldn't have needed hope if I had just gone back for him."

Already well versed in the circumstances regarding his son's capture, Poseidon shook his head. "You had no way of knowing, Annabeth. He made his choice when he jumped out of the truck. It just happened to be a very, very, very foolish choice. It's not your fault."

The daughter of Athena stayed silent, though it was clear she didn't believe a word from the sea god's mouth.

"I..." She sighed, then looked down at herself. "I should go change. Apollo said he had some clothes without bloodstains that I could borrow. I... I'll be right back."

Before Poseidon could say anything, the daughter of Athena rose and pushed by the demigods standing by the door. The door swung shut with a gentle swoosh, leaving the others feeling trapped inside the room.

"Maybe I should go after her..." Silena suggested after a moment.

Poseidon shook his head. "No, let her be for now. She needs some time to herself. I don't think she'll be gone long, anyways."

The daughter of Aphrodite nodded solemnly, pulling herself closer to Beckendorf's side.

For several long minutes, the four conscious occupants of the room lingered in the silence, each of them looking at the unconscious demigod and letting him fill their thoughts. When Annabeth didn't return after several minutes, Silena said, "I should really go after Annabeth."

This time, Poseidon had no argument. "Ok."

Silena slowly separated herself from Beck. "I'll hopefully be right back," she said, then swiftly exited the room.

"Do you think Percy is going to wake up soon?" Beck asked Poseidon once the door swooshed shut again.

The sea god shrugged. "Apollo supposedly said he would wake up soon, but I don't know how soon it could be. He doesn't look very good and with that stab wound-"

Suddenly, Poseidon stopped talking. Beck and Grover exchanged frowns.

"Poseidon?" Grover prompted. "What's wrong?"

"I thought I just..." The sea god stared intently at Percy, then shook his head. "Never mind. I must be seeing things."

"What did you think you saw?" Beck asked.

"I thought... I thought Percy's hand just twitched." Poseidon pointed to the appendage sitting innocently on the white sheets. "But I think I was mistaken."

Beck and Grover said nothing, too busy watching the hand to see if it would repeat its magic. For a long moment, there was nothing.

Then, the hand jumped.

"Did you see that?" Grover gasped. Beck nodded violently. "Poseidon! I think he's-"

With a sharp intake of breath, Percy's eyes flew open. He tried to lurch into a sitting position, but the wound on his chest clearly caused him pain, for he fell back down with a strangled scream partially trapped in his throat.

In an instant, Poseidon was at his son's side. "Percy!"

The demigod flinched away from his father's helping hand, protests forming on his lips. "No, stop, please..." None of them were louder than whispers, but Poseidon still felt like he had been punched in the throat.

"Percy, it's me, Poseidon. You're safe, I promise. You're on Olympus."

Percy kept repeating his mantra of "No, stop, please," whispered under his breath.

Poseidon turned desperately. "Someone, get Apollo!" He heard the door to the room open and close, but he had already turned his attention back to Percy.

"Percy, just breathe. We're getting Apollo, he's going to help you. Stay with me, son."

The door swung open, and Poseidon whirled around to bring his nephew up to date on what was going on. But instead of the blonde sun god, the blonde daughter of Athena stood in the doorway.

"Poseidon, what's going on?" she asked, her voice filled with confusion. In the hallway behind her stood Silena, who peered into the room over Annabeth's shoulder.

With Annabeth's question came silence. Percy's mantra stopped, his mouth hanging open briefly before he snapped it back in place. He laid there, craning his neck to look at the doorway.

When his eyes met Annabeth's, the first thing he said was, "I thought you were dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Next update will be December 30, it's a Sunday. Until then, Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and a Happy Festivus for all! :)


	30. Chapter 30

Third Person POV

With Annabeth's question came silence. Percy's mantra stopped, his mouth hanging open briefly before he snapped it back in place. He laid there, craning his neck to look at the doorway.

When his eyes met Annabeth's, the first thing he said was, "I thought you were dead."

 

A beat passed where no one spoke. Annabeth frowned, stepping further into the room. "Why would you think that?" she asked, slowly moving closer to the bed containing the damaged son of Poseidon.

He didn't answer, his wide green eyes unblinking as they tracked her movements.

Annabeth stopped, frown deepening as she observed her observer. "Do you know where we are?" She looked around at the others, to see if they already spoke to him before she entered. Poseidon shrugged, causing the girl to look back to the demigod on the bed for response.

When he made no move to reply, she kept talking. "We're on Olympus. In Apollo's temple. Do you know why?"

There was no response. As she waited, Annabeth shuffled closer to the bed until she was back at the chair she sat in earlier. Perching herself carefully on the cool metal of the seat, she said in a soft, vaguely-threatening voice, "It's because you had to go and get yourself stabbed like some kind of idiot. Were you trying to give us all heart attacks?"

In the back of the room, Grover whispered loudly, "I'm surprised she only called him an idiot."

Percy kept staring at the blonde daughter of Athena as she sat next to him. Annabeth leaned a little closer, the metal chair looking like it might fold under her. She smiled sweetly at him, then said in a voice just above a whisper, "If you don't respond verbally to anything, I might have to kick you in the balls just to get you to make a noise."

"Ok, I think that's enough," Poseidon interjected, grabbing Annabeth's shoulder not unlikely and pulling her backwards from his son until she was sitting normally in the chair. "Annabeth, he just woke up. Give him space, I'm sure he's confused."

Annabeth frowned at the sea god. "With all due respect, Poseidon, we don't exactly have time to give him. Kronos is still at large, even with Percy safe here. How do we know we didn't just start his next plan?"

"We have to give him some time, otherwise he'll never adjust!" Poseidon argued. "He needs time and he needs space. Neither of which you're giving him. If you keep harassing him, I might have to send you out."

"No! You can't do that, Poseidon, I have a right to be here and-"

"Don't go."

Everyone turned to the son of Poseidon. His green eyes stared imploringly at Annabeth, whose brow crinkled into a slight frown as she looked back at him.

"Me?"

He nodded. "I thought you were dead," he whispered. "He showed me... You were dead. Gods, Annabeth, you were dead and it was all my fault and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry this is all my fault."

"He showed you?" Silena repeated from the back of the room, standing near Beckendorf. "Who showed you what?"

Percy froze.

"It was Kronos, wasn't it?" Silena murmured.

Beckendorf nodded slowly, agreeing with that analysis. "But how?"

"There was a screen," a voice said from the back of the room. "It showed whatever it was that Kronos wanted it to show."

Grover frowned in Luke's direction. "Did you find more chairs?" he asked, noticing the distinct lack of folding chairs surrounding the son of Hermes.

"What do you mean, a screen?" Poseidon interrupted. "What did it show?"

Luke looked across the room at Percy, who made no move to answer his father's question. Hesitantly, he said, "When Percy first arrived at the compound, Kronos used the screen to show us what the bomb did."

"I thought you all died," Percy admitted softly, his tone only slightly stronger than it was a moment previously. "And then he showed me how the nanobugs worked... And a part of me wished you all were really dead so I wouldn't have anything to stop me from saving myself."

"Saving yourself...?" Annabeth repeated distantly, a look of horror quickly overtaking her look of confusion. "You can't possibly mean..."

"I'm sorry, Annabeth," Percy murmured, his green eyes looking up at her sadly. They were so hollow and pained. Had they always looked like that? She didn't think they had, but that only made her stomach drop further. "That knife you removed from my chest? I put that there."

"Why?" Annabeth breathed, almost on the verge of tears. She had tried so hard to keep her composure when she first entered the room. Seeing him awake, looking at her... That gods awful blue mask no where in sight... She wanted to cry and run towards him. It was easier to just let the rage take over. Now, however, there was no anger left. "What could you have possibly seen that would make you want to do that?"

Percy didn't move his sorrowful eyes from those of the daughter of Athena. "You were dead. Thalia was crying, Chiron was giving a speech. The whole camp was there. They were burning your shroud. And I-I killed you. It was all my fault. You died, that night in the apartment. You died there because I couldn't keep it together and listen to the goddamn orders." Percy scrunched in on himself a bit, roughly pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes in distress. "I couldn't follow the goddamn orders. They were so simple, so easy, but I couldn't do it because you were there and you were talking to me and I didn't want to hurt you, I never want to hurt you! But I did and you died and Thalia was crying and she never cries and it seemed so real. Gods, Annabeth, it was so real. And if I did that to you, I could do it to anyone else and I couldn't... I couldn't let that happen."

"Where'd the dagger come from?" Luke suddenly asked, blue eyes narrowed in suspicion.

A beat of silence passed, in which everyone stared at the son of Poseidon expectantly. He didn't move, hiding his face behind his hands.

Finally, he said, "Kronos arrived. He saw that I watched the video from camp. He... He told me things I hadn't realized before." Slowly, Percy lowered his hands from his face. Instead of the green orbs searching out Annabeth, they locked onto the blue eyes of the son of Hermes. "You were never my friend," Percy stated, as if he had had time to think about this before. "I understand now that you were working for Kronos the whole time. Even after he took you away. He told me everything."

Luke frowned. "Clearly he's told you nothing. Did he tell you that he tried to have me killed and I barely escaped? And that I only escaped by killing the monster that was about to kill me?"

At Percy's confused look, Luke huffed. "I didn't think so."

"He said you were working for him the entire time. He said you told him things... Things he couldn't have known."

"Were they things that I knew?" Luke asked, voice sad but not offended. "Or were they things that neither of us should have known?"

Percy paused. When he finally answered, his words were halting. "Neither of you should've known. I didn't think either of you did."

The son of Hermes nodded, understanding clear on his face. "There are some things that Kronos knows... and you never know where he gets his information. He just has it and he uses it against you. But Percy, listen to me: that plan we made before he tried to have me killed? I always intended on seeing it through to the end."

The son of Poseidon nodded wordlessly, looking at Luke with something akin to hope blooming in his hollow eyes like the first flower after a long and cold winter.

A pleasant silence was beginning to overtake the room. Too bad the Fates wouldn't allow it.

Footsteps crashed in the hallway, followed by a thud, as if someone had collided with a table. The footsteps stopped, just as the door of the room was thrown open. Poseidon rose to his feet to see a disheveled Apollo standing there in the doorway.

"Kronos is marching on Olympus," he gasped out. He staggered into the room, leaning against a cabinet to catch his breath and explain himself. "Zeus has called a meeting. Camp Half Blood is already on their way into the city. Poseidon, you're needed in the throne room as soon as possible."

The sea god glanced at the demigods in the room. "Keep an eye on Percy," he said, then disappeared into a burst of sea mist.

Before the incident, Percy might've squawked indignantly at having his father ask his friends to protect him, but this Percy barely looked up from where his eyes had fallen when Apollo burst in. It worried all those present, not that they would say anything.

Once Apollo regained his breath from his impromptu sprint, he too vanished from the room.

In the ensuing silence, Beckendorf tried to strike up a small conversation. "Percy, how are you feeling?"

"Fine," came the short reply. The son of Hephaestus nodded slowly, looking at Silena who indicated that he should stop.

Sadly, Grover did not get that same good advice. "We're just worried about you, Perce. You've been gone for a long time and you didn't seem like you were doing so hot a couple times back there. We... We were worried about you before rescuing you and the scene we walked in on didn't really sooth our fears."

Percy winced, which jostled his wounds, his caused him to wince again. This only aggravated the wounds more, leaving him to bite back a cry of pain as opposed to wincing.

Seeing this, Annabeth stood up from the chair she had been sitting in and faced her other friends. "Guys, maybe we should give Percy a minute. Would you mind waiting in the hall?"

Beck looked ready to agree, and Grover seemed pretty close to agreement as well. The satyr saw the way Percy flinched at his words, and he had no intention of causing his friend any harm. He only wanted to say that he was glad Percy was back! Maybe it really would be best if he waited in the hall. Silena seemed a little reluctant, but after meeting Annabeth's desperate eyes she quickly changed her mind.

Luke was the only one that seemed to loathe the very idea of leaving. He opened his mouth to protest, but he was standing right beside the still-open door to the hallway, so Silena pushed him from the room. The daughter of Aphrodite flashed a thumbs up over her shoulder as she ushered Beckendorf and Grover from the room as well, leaving just Annabeth and Percy behind.

"You don't have to stay, you know," Percy said as soon as Grover closed the door behind him. "You could go with them. I don't know why you would want to stay here with just me."

Annabeth shrugged, resuming her seat at Percy's bedside. A thousand replies flew through her head, but she knew she had to answer honestly. "I missed you. I'm not going to leave you alone that easily."

The son of Poseidon stared at her for a long moment, eyes filled with an emotion that Annabeth couldn't identify. Finally, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry, Percy. I'm fine, and so is everyone else. We're all fine, so you don't have-"

"You don't get it, Annabeth!" Percy interrupted, anguished. His eyes met hers, watery with traces of red. "I watched your funeral. I was the reason you died. I was ready to kill myself so I could find you in the Underworld and apologize. It wouldn't matter that I'd end up in the Fields of Punishment while you would be sitting in Elysium, I was sure Hades would let me talk to you if only because I'm his nephew and he owes me a favor or two."

"Why would you do that for me?" Annabeth asked, frowning in confusion.

Percy looked at her with a knowing glint in his sad eyes. "Why would you stay here with me after all I've done?"

Annabeth stared, opening her lips slightly. She knew the honest answer to Percy's question, but could it be the same answer for her own? Hesitantly, she opened her mouth further, words gathering on the tip of her tongue and threatening to spill out. Just as she was about to confess, revealing her emotions and laying them bare at his feet, the door opened.

"Um, Annabeth?"

"Yes, Silena?" The daughter of Athena turned to face her friend, feeling conflicted about the interruption. On one hand, she was so relieved to be interrupted, because it gave her another moment to fight her desire to share her thoughts. On the other, she knew that this was only a temporary setback. She would have to say it sometime, especially because a child of the wisdom goddess does not run away from their problems.

The daughter of Aphrodite poked her head of dark hair into the room. She chewed her lip anxiously, looking to her blonde friend. "I really think you should get out here."

Annabeth frowned, glancing at the son of Poseidon laying on the bed. "But Percy-"

"I really think you should see this," Silena interrupted, face serious and voice almost desperate. "Percy will be fine for a minute."

Despite Silena's reassurance, Annabeth hesitated. At least, she did until a soft voice called out, "Go, Annabeth. Silena's right, I'll be fine." Even then, it took another moment before the blonde let herself be led from the room.

As soon as the door swung shut behind her, Silena turned to Annabeth, the three boys standing behind the dark-haired beauty.

"What's up?" Annabeth asked, frowning. She shot a worried glance at the door, behind which lay the son of Poseidon.

Silena bit down on her lip, irritating the already-aggravated flesh. When her hesitation was clearly too long, Luke stepped forwards. "The throne room was attacked. Kronos is on Olympus. The battle for Olympus has officially begun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be January 13! Happy (early) New Year! :)


	31. Chapter 31

Third Person POV

Silena bit down on her lip, irritating the already-aggravated flesh. When her hesitation was clearly too long, Luke stepped forwards. "The throne room was attacked. Kronos is on Olympus. The battle for Olympus has officially begun."

 

The demigods rushed to the edge of Olympus, Annabeth leading the way. "Have you been in contact with Camp Half Blood?" she asked as the group hurried down deserted streets.

"We Iris-messaged Chiron as soon as we heard," Beckendorf answered.

"Who talked to him?"

"Luke."

Before Annabeth could ask for his report, he stated, "Chiron said that he's talking all the older campers and they'll try to get to the Empire State Building as quick as they can. So far, the only attack has been on the throne room but we don't know if Kronos has an army approaching from the ground as well."

"It's a good thing we're already up here," Annabeth groused. "That stupid doorman would fight us the entire time. The best view is from up here, anyways."

With no one to block the usually-crowded streets, the demigods quickly made it to the edge of Olympus. Peering over the side, they surveyed the city below. The beeping of car horns was clearly audible even this high above the city, testament to the fact that the mortals were oblivious to the perils of the immortal city looming in the sky overhead.

"Looks like the mortals are fine," Grover observed with a hint of nervousness to his voice. "At least for now."

"If Kronos found a way to get to Olympus that doesn't involve bothering the mortals, I don't see why he would. Causing the mortals to panic would only cause the Olympians to be on their guard. However he get here, he did so by using stealth and insight. The only other way he could've gotten up would've been through the elevator, and to give the doorman credit, he never gives the key to anyone."

The other demigods looked at Annabeth as she delivered her knowledgeable analysis of events leading up to Kronos's presence in the throne room.

"What do we do now, then? We don't know how he got on Olympus, so Kronos might have an escape route somewhere. Should we look for it?" Beckendorf suggested.

Annabeth nodded, naturally taking up her role as strategist. "Yes. Beckendorf, you and Silena go look for anything or anyone that looks like it might be involved in an entry route or an exit route."

The two demigods nodded. "What about you three?" the daughter of Aphrodite asked, her brow crinkled as she frowned at one of her best friends.

The daughter of Athena exchanged a look with a determined Luke and a nervous Grover. "We're going to find Kronos."

 

As soon as the door closed behind Annabeth, Percy contemplated getting up and listening to hear what they were saying. He was afraid they were talking about him, but his gut told him it was something much worse. However, with all the wires keeping him hooked up to machines near the bed, he was afraid to get up. What if Annabeth came back in and saw him out of the bed, or just sitting there without all the wires? She'd be so disappointed.

Just as he was ready to resign himself to the fact that he wouldn't know what's going on, he remembered the lessons that he learned with Kronos. As much as he hated to recall those times, he needed the information. Closing his eyes, Percy concentrated on the water molecules in the room, creating a sort-of chain with them.

He squeezed his eyes shut further and listened.

There was a long stretch of silence, and Percy worried that he did something wrong, that he was missing a link somewhere, that the water molecules didn't connect well enough to the wall to be able to hear through, that something somewhere had gone horribly wrong and maybe he wasn't even on Olympus, maybe he was still in Kronos's evil lair and this was all some horrible terrible dream and he was going to wake up to the feeling of metal tearing his flesh open and screaming, so much screaming and he didn't want to go back, please-

There was the sound of someone drawing in a breath before words starting filling the terrible, terrible silence.

"The throne room was attacked. Kronos-"

Suddenly, the silence seemed so much more preferable.

In his shock, Percy lost his concentration and the water molecules he formed into a chain collapsed to the tile floor, leaving a line of water. Numbly, he sat on the bed, staring at the wall opposite with the heavy door hiding Annabeth on the other side.

What the hell was he going to do now? Kronos was on Olympus, and Percy was sure it had something to do with him also being on Olympus. What were the chances that the titan of freaking time would be at the same place, at the same time? These past few weeks had taught Percy that nothing was ever a coincidence.

(On that note, how had they managed to rescue him? There's no way Kronos wouldn't have noticed their presence in his lair, despite its size. He was constantly aware of everything, a skill that Percy had grown to loathe. The titan was everywhere and he knew everything.)

Percy hated him.

But this was all Percy's fault. Kronos couldn't have gotten to Olympus without the son of Poseidon being on Olympus, he's sure. He has to find a way to fix this, or everyone is going to die. (A quick glance down at his weakened body ensured Percy that he too would likely die, despite whether or not he actually fought and picked up a sword. It would be a fine price to way, especially considering this was all his fault. And as long as his friends (including Annabeth) survived, he would be fine. In spirit.)

He made up his mind; he needs to stand up to his tormentor. For his friends, for Annabeth, for his father, and for himself.

Carefully, he began to extract the wires from his arms, pulling the needles out one by one. The care he used did nothing to dull the sting, but at least it wasn't painful. After so long with Kronos, nothing could ever be painful. He thought he knew the meaning of the word beforehand; clearly, he did not.

With the needles and the connecting wires free from the confines of his skin, Percy slowly lifted himself up off the bed. He threw one leg over the side of the bed, grimacing when his foot smacked the metal stand. With a little more caution, the second one followed the first.

A moment later, he pushed himself up off the bed. He was standing!

His knees buckled, nearly sending him collapsing to the ground. But he grabbed on to the white sheets of the bed, wrinkling them with his tight grip, remaining on his feet. He took a second to regather his strength, then he stood again.

This time, he did not fall. He eased his left foot in front of the right, then the right in front of the left, shuffling around the bed and towards the door. He made it all the way around the bed when it naked toe tapped a puddle on the floor.

A jolt of energy shot through him, certainly not enough to better his odds of fighting but enough to make sure that he didn't crumble to the floor before reaching the other side of the room. Glancing down, he glimpsed a line of water spreading from the bed to the door.

Perhaps that would be enough to help him survive, at least for a little while.

Step by step, Percy made his way to the door, each one making him a little bit stronger. Taking him a little bit closer to his enemy. Bringing him a little bit closer to closure.

He was almost there... And then suddenly he was at the door, using some of his acquired strength to push it open, where he stumbled out into the hallway. He took a moment to celebrate his victory, but it was made so much poorer by the realization that they had already left.

Well. It was time to catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short! Midterms approaching :( Jan 27 is the next update!


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I disappeared!! It's been so hectic lately.

Third Person POV

He was almost there... And then suddenly he was at the door, using some of his acquired strength to push it open, where he stumbled out into the hallway. He took a moment to celebrate his victory, but it was made so much poorer by the realization that they had already left.

Well. It was time to catch up.

 

Three figures ran down the deserted streets of Olympus. A girl with her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, followed by a curly-haired satyr and a tall, blonde boy. Each of them looked disheveled and like they had already been in a fight, but none of them lacked determination.

(Even if the satyr looked a little nervous and distracted.)

"So what's the plan, Annabeth?" Luke asked, huffing slightly, a little out of breath.

Annabeth, barely even winded, responded succinctly. "We find Kronos. We save Olympus. We save the world."

Luke tripped a little, stumbling in shock. Quickly, he regained his balance and returned to running at Annabeth's side. "Wait, you don't have a more thought-out plan?"

The daughter of Athena looked at her friend out of the corner of her gray eyes. "In every plan I can come up with, we end up killed. I'll let you know when I think up a better one."

Silently, Luke let Annabeth speed up to jog ahead of him.

"Just leave her alone for a minute, Luke," Grover advised when the son of Hermes was in earshot. "She needs time to think, especially about Kronos."

Luke pursed his lips, the scar on his face shifting. "I'm afraid time is something she can't afford have."

To that, Grover said nothing.

Shortly, the trio arrived at the doors to the throne room. Annabeth stopped a few feet from the towering door, so close that if she fully extended her arm, her fingertips would graze the cool marble.

"Behind this door lies the fate of Olympus and of the world," Annabeth said, not turning around to face her two friends. "We either succeed in here and the world survives, or we fail and hope that someone else can clean up our mess before Kronos destroys the world."

"That's a comforting thought," Luke snarked. Annabeth wisely ignored him.

"Even if we do succeed, we might not make it out of that room alive," she observed.

"You really know how to liven up a group, huh? Is this your idea of a pep talk? Because, if so, it sucks. It sucks so badly."

Refusing to do so much as look at the son of Hermes, Annabeth kept talking. "It doesn't matter what happens to use once we enter these doors. What matters is what we do and who we manage to save. If we can save Ethan, excellent. But we cannot save Kronos. And as long as Kronos doesn't leave the throne room, we will have done enough."

Looking over her shoulder, Annabeth took in the faces of her two chosen companions. "Once we walk into the throne room, we are in for the fight of our lives. Are you both ready?"

Luke nodded immediately, grim determination set on his face despite his sarcastic comments. Grover nodded as well, looking very bit as determined as Luke but also displaying a fair bit more uncertainty.

Annabeth spared them both a flash of a smile, perhaps her last one. "Let's kill some titan, then." With the support from her friends echoing in her ears, Annabeth pushed open the throne room doors.

 

"How much further do you think it is, Charlie?" Silena asked, no trace of a whine evident in her voice. "Do you think we missed something?"

"We couldn't have missed something," Beckendorf insisted. "We've been so careful so far!"

"I know, but..."

Silena didn't finish her statement, but Beck understood his girlfriend's concerns. Tasked with finding the entry route or exit route of Kronos onto Olympus, they couldn't fail their mission. If the others failed to stop Kronos, they couldn't fail to stop his escape. Or at least slow down his escape. To fail would mean to expose the horrors of Kronos' twisted mind to the world. To fail would mean to ensure the downfall of civilization.

They couldn't afford to fail.

Not now.

"We didn't miss it, Silena," Beckendorf assured. "We would've seen something."

"What kind of something?" she asked, clearly getting more than a little frustrated with the dire circumstances the demigod side had been dealt.

Beck really had no answer to that. "We'll know it when we see it," he finally replied. Apparently, his girlfriend accepted that answer because she asked no further questions.

The two were hurrying down another side-street when Silena suddenly paused in her steps. Seeing her stop, Beck quickly backstepped and returned to her side. "What is it?"

"What's that?" the daughter of Aphrodite asked, pointing towards the edge of Olympus near Poseidon's temple.

The son of Hephaestus strained his eyes, but he couldn't tell what the object was from afar. Warily, while keeping Silena safely behind him (he'd rather kill himself than have her die), he crept forwards.

"Charlie..."

"I'll be fine, Silena," he assured her, continuously sliding closer to the object. "I don't see any movement."

"That doesn't mean it isn't dangerous!" she argued, pacing forwards slightly. "What if it's set to explode or something?"

"Then they can't get off Olympus," he answered, pausing in his steps towards the object. "But please, Silena, just in case it is dangerous, stay back."

"But Charlie..."

He met her worried eyes steadily. "If it is dangerous, one of us would have to go find Annabeth to let her know. And I'll be damned if I let it hurt you."

The daughter of love clearly debated to herself before she sighed and nodded reluctantly. "As long as you also don't get hurt, fine."

He wanted to make that promise to her, but he didn't want to inevitably break it. Nothing was as important to him as her safety.

Carefully, Beckendorf slunk towards the object sitting in the shadow of Poseidon's temple. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he thought it was black. That would certainly explain his difficulties with seeing it. It was also fairly large, but very geometric in shape. (At least, its outline was geometric from its silhouette.) Despite being on the larger side, it looked too small to carry more than five normal-sized people without disaster.

Soon, Beck was close enough to see, even in the darkness, that Kronos brought a small stealth helicopter to Olympus.

"Oh, shit."

 

The first thing Annabeth saw was fire. Flames sat atop burning thrones in place of the twelve Olympians, dancing up the walls and simmering in the shadows. Hestia's hearth towards the far wall sat undisturbed amidst the chaos, the calming anchor in the midst of the storming inferno.

"Ah, I see I finally have visitors!"

The three demigods turned towards the center of the room. In a large white marble throne, the titan of time sat, golden eyes staring at the newcomers with sadistic glee. "How do you like my new throne?" he asked conversationally. "I believe it used to belong to my no-good son. I feel that it fits my personality better than his."

"Kronos," Annabeth greeted bravely, standing a little ways into the throne room but not close enough to the titan that he could easily get her. "We heard that you were on Olympus. We're here to escort you back to Tartarus where you belong."

The primordial living in the body of Ethan Nakamura laughed. "Is this all they could spare? Two demigods and a satyr? I knew my children were hopeless but this, this is just too much. Even for them! And to think that they accused me, me!, of being a terrible parent!"

"At least my father cared about me enough to not have me murdered," Luke spat, interrupting the titan's laughter at the plight of his grandchildren.

Kronos leaned forwards in Zeus's throne, squinting at the son of Hermes. "Ah yes, Luke... I thought my Cyclops killed you."

"Not for lack of enthusiasm," the blonde groused.

The titan waved his hand flippantly. "No matter, I'll fix the mistake when I kill you myself," he said casually.

"Not on my life."

Annabeth looked over at Grover in shock. In fact, the satyr himself looked shocked but he held himself strongly. "That's right. I won't let you kill him while I'm around, and I'm sure Annabeth feels the same way."

"Of course I do. Kronos, you aren't walking out of here alive."

The titan sighed. "Such a pity. I had such good plans in store for you, Miss Chase. Perhaps you asked your dear friend Percy to share some of them. He must remember at least a few of the many plans we came up with."

Annabeth felt a shiver go down her spine at the titan's words, but she composed herself. "Percy is not your puppet," she announced, sounding a lot more defiant than she felt. "And you will not be killing us today."

"So be it." Kronos shrugged. He stood up from Zeus's throne, calmly walking a few steps closer to the small group. Once he was a few paces away, he pulled a sword from a sheath on his side. "If you want to die fighting, who am I to deny you that wish? After all, how many people can say that they've been killed by the titan of time?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short! Next chapter will hopefully be posted February 24th. Thanks! :)


	33. Chapter 33

Third Person POV

Annabeth felt a shiver go down her spine at the titan's words, but she composed herself. "Percy is not your puppet," she announced, sounding a lot more defiant than she felt. "And you will not be killing us today."

"So be it." Kronos shrugged. He stood up from Zeus's throne, calmly walking a few steps closer to the small group. Once he was a few paces away, he pulled a sword from a sheath on his side. "If you want to die fighting, who am I to deny you that wish? After all, how many people can say that they've been killed by the titan of time?"

 

"Charlie, we have to find Annabeth."

Beckendorf shook his head at his girlfriend. "We can't. She went to face Kronos, and we can't afford to distract her. She needs her wits about her to face the titan."

"Well, then what are we supposed to do?" Silena demanded, frustration at their situation seeping into her voice. "You just discovered a small stealth helicopter sitting on the edge of Olympus, waiting to bring Kronos and whatever minions he has back to his disgusting lair. What are we supposed to do?"

Beck paused, considering their opinions and the growing agitation radiating off the daughter of Aphrodite. "You know what we're going to do?" He suddenly asked.

"No," Silena deadpanned, looking up at him. Still, there was hope shining in her eyes.

"We're going to take care of this ourselves."

A beat of silence passed, then Silena practically exploded.

"What?! Charlie, you've got to be kidding me. What are you talking about?"

The son of Hephaestus grinned. "My dad has a workshop on Olympus; we can run over, grab some supplies, and prevent this helicopter from ever flying again."

The frown on Silena's face didn't disappear, but it did become less severe. "But what if someone tries to get to the helicopter while we're gone?"

"You can stay here and watch, as long as you hide," Beckendorf decided a moment later. "I know my father's workshop, and I can run over and be back within a few minutes."

Silena nodded slowly. "Please be careful, though. I don't want to lose you, Charlie."

The son of Hephaestus smiled reassuringly. "I'll be as careful as I can. I don't want to lose you, either." He leaned forwards to press a sweet kiss to her lips, pulling back too soon for either of their liking. He started to move away in the direction of his father's workshop. "I'll be back soon!"

Before Silena could shout a reply, the son of Hephaestus had disappeared around the corner.

 

If Percy thought that escaping the infirmary that doubled as his room was difficult, he hadn't correctly guessed how big Apollo's temple would be. The hallway he found himself in was endless, and he wasn't completely sure if he was even going the right way. (Gods, he couldn't even imagine trying to turn around and go the other way. As long as he moved in one direction, he could tell himself that he was somehow making progress. If he had to pass by his room again, he might not make it further.)

He just put one foot in front of the other, shuffling along down the wide hallway. Thankfully, the god of the sun loved decoration enough that he had tables and chairs at every ten-step interval. All Percy had to do was count to ten and he had temporary relief, something to rest upon for a moment.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

He wasn't sure how long he had been doing that for. He wasn't sure how far he was from where he started. He wasn't sure how long it would take him to get to the others. All he knew was that no matter what, he could not stop. Not even for a second. If he did, he'd never go on and his friends would be left to die a terrible death that he could've prevented or at least eased.

That is, if they haven't died already.

Shut up, Percy, he chided himself. He can't think that way. There has to be something to hope for in this terrible life he's been living for the past few months, otherwise he might as well have died in Kronos's lair. Cold, miserable, and alone except for the company of the most sadistic being he had ever met.

What a lovely way to die.

For whatever reason, however, the Fates weren't done with him yet. (He ignored the small voice in the back of his head that reminded him that it was his own fault that he wasn't dead. Even though his memory was spotty, he remembered the way his hands shook holding that dreaded dagger. He remembered the way he had moved them just a slight bit after lining it up with his heart.) He had a second chance. He couldn't blow it again.

Percy shoved himself off another table off to the side of the hallway, restarting his counting as he made it closer to the end of the corridor. There was a turn up ahead, and even if he didn't know what it led to, he was tired of looking at the same tiled floor and painted walls. He just hoped it wasn't a dead-end.

One step.

Why did Apollo have so many decorative items?

Two steps.

Seriously, Percy hadn't even seen anyone else in the temple, aside from his friends (but that was much earlier).

Three steps.

Although, he might not have seen anyone because Kronos is currently attacking Olympus.

Four steps.

And that was all his fault, so indirectly, it's his fault that Apollo has no company.

Five steps. Halfway there.

That's just another thing for Percy to add to his list of screw-ups.

Six steps.

Another thing to feel guilty for.

Seven steps.

Another thing to regret.

Eight steps.

Another thing to loathe about himself.

Nine steps.

Another thing to hate himself for, and worry that everyone else will hate him for, because why wouldn't they, he's a traitor, a coward, a thief, a pawn, he'd be surprised if they didn't just kill him and save themselves the trouble of looking at him after this, he wouldn't blame them-

Ten steps.

Percy clutched the sharp edge of the wall, peering around the corner. He almost wanted to close his eyes, afraid he'd see a dead-end. He knew he didn't have the strength to turn around. The son of Poseidon was practically dead on his feet, only his free will keeping him going forwards. He wasn't even sure how he made it this far, or even how far he made it, but he knew that if he fell down, he wouldn't be able to get back up. And they'd only find him once Kronos was defeated.

(Or once Kronos defeated the gods and came looking for him, his mind argued. The titan wouldn't allow him to be free. Not even in death.)

Looking around the corner at the end of the hallway, Percy faced a blissful sight. There, at the end of another, very short hallway, was a door with light streaming in through the frosted glass window. He just found his way out of Apollo's temple.

 

Annabeth knew that their odds against Kronos weren't good. By herself, they weren't completely impossible, as long as he was housed within the mortal body of Ethan Nakamura. But with Grover and Luke with her, the odds were slightly in their favor.

Kronos rushed towards them, sword raised high in the air. The three demigods scattered, each of them pulling out their own weapons. Luke unsheathed a sword from his side, while Grover pulled out a very small knife and his pan flute. Annabeth unsheathed her dagger from its place on her hip, sliding into a fighting stance and holding it in front of her threateningly.

The titan glanced at the three demigods prepared to fight him. Laughing, he mocked, "Which of you wants to die first?"

"The only one dying today is you, you crooked king of a titan!" Luke fired back. He jumped a few steps back, moving fluidly into a stance with his sword at the ready.

The titan laughed again, moving towards the son of Hermes. "How kind of you to volunteer, Castellan! I'd say I'd make your death merciful for your show of fool-hardy bravery, but that would be a lie. You have to be the example for your friends of what horrific deaths await them if they keep up this stupid game."

"You won't get a chance to kill us!" Annabeth shouted, standing on the other side of Kronos. The titan turned around to look at her. "We're not going to let you kill Luke."

Kronos opened his mouth to respond to the daughter of Athena, but in his moment of turning, he forgot about the third member of their motley crew. Grover came up behind the distracted titan, knife in one hand and pan flute in another. Bashing him over the head with the pan flute, he drove the knife into Kronos's arm.

Bellowing in pain, the titan swung around and slashed Grover across the chest with his sharp sword. The satyr had already created some distance between himself and Kronos when the other spun around, but the force of the blow still knocked him to the ground. The knife remained lodged in the titan's arm.

"I've changed my mind!" Kronos roared, advancing on the downed satyr. "I'm going to kill you first!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect the next chapter on March 17! Sorry it's been so long, school is terrible!!


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So, this chapter is SUPER delayed and I am so so sorry but so many things happened. First, I went on a trip to Washington DC which was so fun! But then the inevitable mountain of work was waiting for me when I got home and I got an average of five hours of sleep each night for an extended period of time which was NOT fun, but that also meant that unless I wanted less sleep, I couldn't work on a chapter. And then I went on a band trip to Disney World last week, which was so fun until one of my friends and fellow band member died while we were on the trip, due to pneumonia and other complications. And I really wanted to work on this but ever since I got back from that trip I've been sleep deprived and depressed SO here is this chapter now and I hope it's not too shitty. But it'll probably be a little shitty, just a warning. I got 9 hours of sleep last night (the most I've gotten in one night in the last five weeks, maybe) so I feel pretty good about this. Anyways, without further delay, here is the chapter!

Third Person POV

Last time, with Percy: 

Looking around the corner at the end of the hallway, Percy faced a blissful sight. There, at the end of another, very short hallway, was a door with light streaming in through the frosted glass window. He just found his way out of Apollo's temple.

 

Travelling the length of the hallway he was just in took Percy a long time. The next hallway was much shorter, but it took probably the same amount of time. He could feel how weak he was, could feel the way his legs trembled beneath the weight of his body. He could feel his joints creak with each slow, exaggerated movement, protesting the probably-comical motions he attempted. He felt like an ancient tortoise, skin dry and wrinkled in the sun, its movements dried out and reduced to a slow, crawling shell.

He was like a tortoise, slow and hiding within his shell. Except he was worse, so much worse, because a tortoise wouldn't have brought Kronos to Olympus to kill all his friends.

That was a reason to keep going, he said to himself. Kronos is going to kill all your friends. You can't let that happen, you can't let that be your fault too. You already have enough to be guilty for, don't be guilty for something else.

A small, traitorous voice at the back of his head whispered that his friends might already be dead. Kronos might've already found them all, killed them all, and was on his way to find Percy and make him immortal just so he could torture him for the rest of eternity.

The son of Poseidon wouldn't be surprised. At this point, a happy ending would be more of an introduction to a heart attack than Kronos's victory.

With a grunt, he made it to the end of the hallway and leaned against the door with the window made of frosted glass. Mercifully, it opened outwards, so all Percy had to do was twist the knob and keep leaning his weight against it. With shaking fingers, he lifted his hand to the doorknob and twisted it softly. In a matter of a minute, he was on the other side of that frosted glass.

Looking around, Percy found himself in a garden. The few labelled plants were labelled with different medicines, so Percy guessed that this had to be a medicinal garden that Apollo used to create some of his more rare medical concoctions.

Behind the son of Poseidon was a golden wall of Apollo's temple. In front of him, beyond the garden, was a little stone fence. But on the other side of that fence was Olympus.

Percy was almost there. Grover, Luke, Silena, Beck. Annabeth. He was on his way.

 

Last time with Silena and Beckendorf:

The son of Hephaestus smiled reassuringly. "I'll be as careful as I can. I don't want to lose you, either." He leaned forwards to press a sweet kiss to her lips, pulling back too soon for either of their liking. He started to move away in the direction of his father's workshop. "I'll be back soon!"

Before Silena could shout a reply, the son of Hephaestus had disappeared around the corner.

 

Silena waited by the helicopter. She stood for a while, mind not fully accepting the idea that if she turned her head to the left, Charlie wouldn't be there. Her mind also couldn't accept the idea that if she turned her head to the right, she would see a black stealth helicopter. The same helicopter Kronos was using for some nefarious purpose.

When had this become her life? Just a year ago, she was sitting by the campfire with her siblings and her friends, singing camp songs and eating marsh mellows. Now, they were at war. How many beds in her cabin would be empty by the time this was over? How many of her siblings wouldn't be coming back? The Aphrodite campers were always underestimated. They weren't always given the same training as the tougher, hardier members of the camp. The Ares kids had it easy; none of them ever had to worry about whether or not they would be able to fight. That's what they were born to do.

Silena was born to look pretty. She was born to look pretty, be a seductress, and use her voice to manipulate people. (Drew was the only other member of Cabin 9 that had the same ability, but the other girl used it too often to make Silena comfortable.) She wasn't born to fight in wars.

Where was Charlie? Shouldn't he have been back by now?

Silena glanced over her left shoulder from where she was sitting, nestled in the shadow of some temple or memorial to some long-dead hero. Maybe Charlie came back already but she couldn't see him. Or maybe he didn't see her, so he kept going, looking for her. Or maybe he got stopped by monsters that invaded Olympus and he's sprawled across the ground somewhere, bleeding out, all because he went by himself and she was just sitting there in the shade like another useless Aphrodite girl, it's all her fault an-

Wait, what was that noise?

Silena stopped her process of thought to listen harder. For a long moment, there was nothing.

She could've sworn she'd heard something...

Wait, there it was again! A faint scratch on rock, like the sound of the sole of a shoe going over brick. Was that Charlie? Silena almost sprang from her spot, but some instinct made her hold her position.

The scratching, scraping noise grew louder until it seemed like the person would round the corner at any second. Silena hid in the shadows, waiting.

A second later, a humanoid figure lurched around the corner. Knife held tightly in her dominant hand, Silena leapt forwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will hopefully be April 28!


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the inconsistencies! School is very busy.

Third Person POV

The scratching, scraping noise grew louder until it seemed like the person would round the corner at any second. Silena hid in the shadows, waiting.

A second later, a humanoid figure lurched around the corner. Knife held tightly in her dominant hand, Silena leapt forwards.

 

The figure made no move to defend itself as Silena pounced, instead swaying slightly to the side as she dove towards them. That turned out to be more from fatigue than for the evasion of her weapon when the person actually swayed in front of her knife. Not expecting that sudden move, Silena's knife drove itself into the person's arm, slicing open flesh and causing blood to flee through the open wound and to the ground below their feet.

Quickly removing the knife for another go at the person, Silena swept their legs out from under them with a rapid kick. Wasting no seconds, she was atop them the second they collapsed to the ground, knife held threateningly overhead.

She hoped that they wouldn't notice how badly her hands were shaking.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" she demanded, willing her voice to stay steady despite the unsteadiness of her hands. Really, you would think that she had never done this before. But the uncertainty of the moment (being separated from her friends, Charlie off to his dad's workshop, Kronos about to take over Olympus, maybe her friends were dead) had Silena more nervous and worked up than usual. So she really can't be blamed for her actions. At least not most of them.

The body pinned beneath her did not move. They made no effort to speak, either, which made the daughter of Aphrodite suspicious. Careful not to make herself vulnerable, she blew aside some of the long, dark locks of hair that fell in front of her face. With slightly clearer vision, she looked down at the enemy she captured.

And the face of Perseus Jackson stared back up at her.

She stared at him for a long minute. Could this really be the son of Poseidon? Didn't she just see him in a bed in Apollo's infirmary, nearly dead? So many questions ran through her mind.

She said the first words that came to her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

For a long moment, nothing happened and Silena feared that she had killed him. "... Percy?" She prompted.

After a second, he murmured, "Annabeth," in reply.

The daughter of Aphrodite frowned. She looked absolutely nothing like the daughter of Athena, not with her dark hair that was the opposite of the blonde's hair. "She's not here," she felt it necessary to say.

Normally, she would've felt the eye roll radiating off the son of Poseidon. Had it been before he was kidnapped, the sarcastic teenager would've replied with some snarky comment that would've had Silena grinning as she helped him up, glad to see that he was alright. Instead, Silena felt like she was staring into a wall, a wall that muttered, "Gotta find her," so softly that she almost missed it.

"What?"

"Find her," he whispered again.

"Hell no," Silena said, finally lowering the knife that she had hanging over his face. After all, only one person could be as stupid as Percy. "You need to go back to the infirmary. Why did Apollo let you out?"

"Kronos."

Oh, well, shit. For a moment, Silena temporarily forgot about that time-controlling bastard.

(Excuse her language; she was just so nervous, she didn't think she could help herself.)

"You can't stay here, Percy," she finally said, not liking any option present at this moment. "You have to go back to the infirmary, even if Apollo isn't there to supervise you. How did you even make it this far?" She murmured that last part, directed as more of an internal musing rather than a question posed to the son of Poseidon.

"I need to find Annabeth," Percy muttered in a slow, deliberate manner, carefully forming each syllable in his clearly exhausted state.

"You know, you'll do no use to Annabeth or anybody else if you die on your way there."

He looked up at the daughter of Aphrodite with dark, haunted, pain-filled green eyes. "You'll be safer without me."

For a long moment, Silena found herself unable to form words. Those eyes, those eyes weren't the eyes she remembered from a summer ago, the eyes of a boy sitting by a lake with his friends, basking in the glow of the sinking sun. Those were the eyes of someone that has been locked in the deepest pit of hell for far too long, managing to escape maybe in body, but likely not in mind or spirit.

Silena was so shaken that she took too long to respond. As soon as she managed to get her voice working again, trying to think of something she could say, she heard a noise from behind her. Recognizing the footfalls of those belonging to Charlie, she continued to focus on Percy.

"Percy, listen to me; no matter what happened, we aren't just going to-" Before she could promise that they would never abandon him, the son of Poseidon was pushing her over with surprising strength for someone that was so weak a moment ago. Silena toppled over, thankfully landing beside her knife and not on it, watching with wide blue eyes as Charlie ran to her side with someone chasing after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapter is short! Next one will hopefully be out May 26.


End file.
